The Care and Feeding of Humans
by Paradoxal Reality
Summary: Joshua and Margaret found something unusual in the forests of Ooo, and brought it home. It was just supposed to be temporary, but little Finn became a permanent part of their lives. Chapter Thirteen: Jake the criminal.
1. Day One

AN: Obviously, this story was inspired heavily by the episode "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain", but I hope it is still entertaining.

It all began one Saturday afternoon. A Saturday that had begun like any other, and had given all appearances of concluding like any other. While the parents had gone out for a stroll, the teenager had stayed home to enjoy the peace and quiet.

Jake didn't look up at the sound of the front door opening and shutting. His attention was enraptured with the instrument in his arms. The faint sounds of his parents voices as they fussed over something in the front room were distant as he concentrated on making his viola sing. The strings' voice whispered and hummed as he carefully drew the bow over them, giving voice to a song he was attempting to pull out of his subconscious teenage mind.

His subconscious was being downright stingy with the music, he noticed. The notes weren't coming with the ease that his sixteen year old's short patience preferred. With a slightly annoyed grunt, he set the instrument aside on his bed, deciding to investigate the fuss in the living room. Stupid subconscious, that guy was a real jerk sometimes.

"Well Margaret," he heard his father comment from the front of the house, "what do you intend to do with the little thing?"

Thing? Jake wondered, ears pricking up with interest. He stretched his stride as he hurried down the hallway, anxious to see what his parents were up to.

"You know very well we couldn't leave it there, Joshua!" Jake's mother lectured, her voice was somewhat muffled and had the telltale echo of the bathroom's tile walls. Jake peered in the living room, watching as his father hung up his best grey fedora next to mom's flower-covered sunhat on the hat rack in the foyer. As he watched, his dad shook his head in apparent confusion before pacing over to stare into the front bathroom. "Well you can't mean to keep it," the older male reasoned, "you can't take in every stray the world puts in front of you, dearest."

"Mom bring home another hurt skunk?" Jake asked, noting an unpleasant smell in the air. His father reacted to the question with a sharp bark of laughter.

"Nothing so simple," Joshua commented, gesturing towards the open bathroom door. "Go see for yourself."

With a shrug, Jake stepped into the bathroom, ignoring the girlish peach colored decor his mother had installed the previous year in a fit of feminine redecorating. The lady herself was kneeling beside the pastel tub, talking softly to something white and soapy that Jake couldn't quite see clearly over the side.

"Mom, you brought home another kitten, didn't you?" he cried, noting the pointy ears atop the small head.

His mom looked up and smiled, clearly excited about her prize. "I think it's a human, Jake."

Jake scrambled closer, staring in disbelief at the tiny, very smelly, hairless creature in a pointy-eared hat that his mother was cleaning. "A human? No way, where did it come from? Are we keeping it?"

"Don't feed it," Jake's father called playfully from the doorway. "If you feed it, it'll never leave!"

Margaret turned and gave her husband a warning glare as he chuckled at her. "Joshua, I'm warning you, that's hardly funny! Someone must have lost this poor little thing. His parents must be... somewhere."

All business, the lady dog returned her attention to the odd little child who was attempting to catch the finger her son was stretching towards it. "Let's finish getting it cleaned up, and then we'll see about finding it's parents."

"I dunno, Mom.." Jake responded, making a game of wiggling his finger around in front of the entranced infant, "I mean, sure everyone knows humans are around, but when's the last time you heard of someone seeing one?"

"Today?" She offered. "Well, he had to come from somewhere!" his mother replied, gently plucking the odd hat that was the child's only clothing off of his head, revealing a sparse covering of sandy blonde hair. "I mean, someone gave it a hat! A hat is a mark of civilization, you know!" The baby squealed unhappily, reaching small chubby hands for the object.

"I think she wants her hat back, Mom." Jake commented.

"Better let me wash it first, baby," Margaret crooned, gently ruffling the child's damp hair and kissing the top of its head.

"Honestly, stop kissing that kid. You don't know where it's been," Joshua sighed.

"I certainly do. HE has been in the tub, and he's perfectly clean and springtime fresh." Jake leaned over and sniffed the boy. "I dunno if I'd go THAT far, Mom. He still smells kind of... odd." His mother sighed. "Of course he smells a little strange to us, we've never smelled a human before!" So saying, Margaret drained the bathwater, and wrapped the baby in a towel before handing him to her son. "I'm going to go toss this in the washer, and then I'll get supper started." She waved the small white hat as she left the room.

"Wait, what am I supposed to do with this?" Jake cried, staring in disbelief at the unsettled baby in his arms. The infant whined, staring after the retreating figure.

"Keep him warm and happy!" his mother called back.

Jake looked up at his father, who shrugged. "You know your mother, once she gets an idea in her head, it's pretty much set in stone."

"But Dad, I don't know anything about taking care of babies!"

"None of us do until we have to give it a whirl, son. Then you just make it up as you go."

Jake blinked dully as the baby boy in his arms whimpered. "I think my entire worldview just changed. I'm not sure I like it."

He followed his father back into the living room, opting to sit in the slightly uneven wood floor in front of the family's overstuffed three-legged blue sofa and let the infant explore the folds of the towel.

"Heh, humans are weird," he commented as the baby discovered his own toes with a loud squeal of delight.

Joshua leaned over the squirming bundle and grinned in spite of himself. "You know, when I was a pup, you'd always hear about how a man was a dog's best friend. I always wondered about it, but I never knew anyone who'd met one."

Jake prodded the little human, drawing the child's attention. "Hey there, buddy," he greeted, "what're we gonna do with you, huh?" The baby's blinked uncertainly, looking back and forth between the two dogs and making nonsense sounds in a hushed whisper.

"I didn't know humans had their own language," Jake commented. His father shook his head. "They don't, son. Babies just.. babble sometimes." Jake laughed sheepishly, stretching out his arm to poke the baby again with an extended finger. "I wonder what he's saying?"

"Probably wishing he had fur," Joshua responded, smoothing his own plush covering self-consciously. "Hang on, I think there might be something in the study to help us out."

Jake watched the tiny, odd creature struggle free of the towel he had been wrapped in as his father ducked behind the sofa, muttering. Jake had seen similar creatures to this little thing, but somehow this one seemed unique. Maybe it was the odd, pale skin instead of the normal blues, pinks or greens that most of the humanoid inhabitants of Ooo had. Or possibly it was just the innocent expression in the child's eyes, but Jake could tell that this being was something different than he'd ever encountered before.

Experimentally, he wiggled an outstretched hand in front of the baby, and was rewarded with a sharp look of inquiry from the subject of his attention. Slowly, a chubby little hand reached up, and with great purpose grasped hold. For such a little thing, he sure had a grip, Jake noted. With a soft grunt of effort, the child pulled on Jake's wrist. After a moment, Jake realized the baby's intention and gave a gentle tug of his own, pulling the infant upright.

"Well look at you!" the magically enhanced dog laughed, impressed. The baby gave a happy little cry of victory in response, and Jake had to grin. The little human, his tiny face set in a grimace of concentration, took first one wobbly step, then another. To Jake's considerable delight, the baby toddled over to him.

"Oh, we gotta keep you," the dog chuckled, petting the boy's head. "You're just ridiculously interesting."

"Found it!"

Both Jake and the baby startled, the child toppling over onto his backside with a yelp of indignant shock.

"I knew I had a book about humans," Jake's father cried, straightening back up from where he'd been crouched behind the sofa and waving a small red book with a battered cover that and many missing pages victoriously. "It's really, really old, but I think it should help. A little, at least." The older dog doubtfully fingered the faded lettering that proclaimed the author as one "Dr. Spock" on the cover. He experimentally nudged the blue sofa, and frowned when it wobbled. "Darn it, we'll have to find another book this size to keep this thing level." Spotting his son, whose face was twisted into a look of pleading, the older dog paused in his examination of the furniture.

"What's the matter, Jake?"

"Dad," Jake whined, pulling his new friend into a tight hug, "Can't we keep him?"

"I don't know, son. A human's a big responsibility, you know. And you're going to be moving out in just a couple of years, so your mother and I will be the ones taking care of him..."

"Come on, Dad!" Jake insisted, "We can't just abandon him! Somebody's gotta take him in! Mom, back me up, here!"

"I've got to agree, Joshua," Margaret's disembodied voice chimed in from the kitchen, "We should at least take care of him until we find his parents."

Jake's father was clearly hesitant. "Well.. that's true." He handed his son the battered book. "Be sure the first thing you do is make sure he's housebroken, though."

Margaret laughed out loud at that, returning to the living room to tease her husband good-naturedly. "Oh, you act all disinterested, but don't think I've forgotten that you were the one who found him!" To Jake's amusement, his mother partially mimed the discovery of the child.

Joshua muttered to himself, scratching the back of his neck. "He was crying. I mean, who could ignore that pathetic wailing?" He rubbed at his ears, recollecting the sound. "It was piercing."

His wife walked over and embraced him fondly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "That's what I love about you, you're so sensitive." Joshua groaned in embarrassment as Margaret patted his head.

"So," Jake interrupted, "what are we going to call the little guy? Hugh the human?"

"Oh goodness no, that's an awful name!" Margaret blanched, "Maybe Pendleton? We almost named you Pendleton, you know!"

"We *almost* did," Joshua interrupted, "And then we agreed not to."

The three dogs lapsed into a thoughtful silence, staring at the tiny human. Jake thumbed through the bedraggled book, letting his mind wander. Suddenly, Joshua chuckled, drawing the attention of his wife and son.

"You know, I was just thinking about that hat of his.."

"The one that looks like a cat?" Jake asked.

"Exactly! I was just thinking that hat reminds me of a kitten I knew as a puppy. What was his... OH! Finnegan Manx, that was his name! Ha, I haven't thought of that rascal in years, I wonder what he's up to these days?"

"Finnegan?" Margaret repeated, baffled.

"I don't know about Finnegan, but what about just calling him Finn?" Jake asked, setting the book aside to look at the youngster beside him. "D'ya like that, little guy? Finn?"

The baby squealed excitedly in response, prompting Jake to take one of the child's tiny fists and bump it against his own. "Alright! He likes it!"

"Finn the human? Hm... well, that's not terrible," Joshua commented.

"So we're keeping him, right?" Jake asked hopefully, tail wagging with delight.

"Until we find his family," agreed his father, who was clearly trying his best to look reluctant even as he was fondly patting the little bundle in Jake's arms on the head. "You two just try not to get too attached, you hear? We're bound to find his parents soon."


	2. Two Years

AN: I hope you enjoy chapter two!

"No!"

"Finn, I'm going to count to three."

"NO!"

Joshua pinched the bridge of his snout, frustrated. Finn, face set in a stubborn scowl, peeked out from behind a chair made of most of an old barrel.

"Don't wanna!"

"I know you don't want to, Finn. You're going to have to trust me on this one, though."

"NO!"

With a groan of frustration, Joshua flipped through the battered book on childcare. As he skimmed through the torn pages, a particular entry caught his eye. Ignoring the little boy making nearly canine-sounding growling noises behind the chair for the moment, the dog read the entry with interest.

"Okay," he sighed, "Let's try this. Would you rather wear your blue shirt or the yellow one?"

Finn's dubious expression contorted for a moment, as he debated the question. For a moment, Joshua held his breath, hoping in the name of his frayed patience that the trick would work. Finally, Finn stepped out from behind the chair and pointed at the blue shirt.

"Thank goodness," Jake's father sighed, gently pulling the suddenly compliant boy's shirt and a pair of shorts on him. According to the book, this sudden refusal to wear clothing was apparently normal, but convincing the two year old why he had to wear clothes when no one else in the household tended to was definitely making correcting the behavior more challenging. It was making him recall the battle with his son over why the newly teenage and ever-independant Jake should not smoke even though his father did had ultimately ended in giving up his pipe.

Of course, that decision had been for the best. The older dog hadn't felt as good in years as he had after he'd quit smoking. In fact, he and his wife had begun their weekly strolls through the countryside around their home in the months afterwards. And curiously, it was on one of those walks that they had found the toddler who was currently eyeing the socks in Joshua's hands with outright suspicion.

"Hey Dad! I see you caught up to the little streaker!"

Joshua humored his son with a good-natured smile. "You won't believe this, but according to the book, this is normal human behavior."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed, walking over to pick up the delighted toddler, who was excitedly repeating a slightly mangled version of his name. At his father's incredulous stare, the son couldn't help but respond that "You're not the only one in the house who knows how to read, you know."

Jake's father crossed his arms, annoyed at the teenage attitude in spite of himself. "So why haven't you been trying to talk him back into some clothes?"

"The book says that he'll outgrow it anyway. Besides, it's almost the cold season. I figured one good draft and he'd be begging for some layers." Jake replied, holding the now-giggling Finn up over his head and stretching his arms almost all the way to the ceiling. "Weird that he always keeps the hat, though," the younger dog commented, slowly lowering the boy back to the ground.

The father shrugged. "I don't think so. It's practically part of his head. Honestly, he cries every time your mother takes it away to mend or wash it." Joshua's expression slid effortlessly from thoughtful to something approaching diabolical. "Well, since you're so learned on the subject of the habits of humans, I'll leave these with you."

So saying, Joshua placed the pair of socks on his son's head and turned to leave, whistling a tune so cheerful that it might give the unfamiliar observer the impression that he was happily dumping the family's young guest off on his son like an unwanted pet. The fond grin he gave the youngster on his way out of the room betrayed his true feelings, however.

Finn squalled a little, spotting the socks laying across the top of his favorite playmate's head. Giving a hearty cry of "NO! NO SOCK!" he began to squirm and thrash.

"Hey! Hey stop it!" Jake cried, shaking his head to dislodge the footwear. "You're hard enough to keep a grip on without acting like a hyperactive waterworm!" Wrapping the boy securely in an elongated portion of his arm, he reached down to pick up the fallen socks. Finn thrashed, continuing to whine and yelp in distress.

"So you don't want the socks, huh?" Jake mused, earning a vigorous head shake in the negative from his companion. "I've got an idea. I'll play you a game for 'em. If I win, you wear 'em. If you win, then I wear 'em. Whaddaya say, buddy?"

Finn ceased his squirming and appeared to consider the idea, cocking his head to the side in the manner of a curious puppy. Jake grinned, the kid was so endearing that it could almost make you forget what a handful he could be. After a long pause, Finn finally nodded in solumn agreement.

"Shake on it?" Jake prompted, holding his free hand out to the boy and trying not to chortle at the grave expression on the child's face. "C'mon, shake?"

Finn laughed at the prompt, wriggling an arm free and grabbing the offered hand to shake it vigorously. Jake sat the boy down with a nod of satisfaction. He handed one sock off to Finn, keeping one for himself. "Okay, dodge socks at ten paces. First one to get three hits wins!" The boy nodded, face set in a look of grim determination that, combined with the absurd weapon clutched in his hands, forced Jake to use all his concentration not to start laughing.

"Okay, back to back. And pace off! One! Two! Three!" Behind him, the boy continued slowly stepping off to Jake's count, unaware that the dog had ceased walking and was now half-hidden by the same chair that Finn himself had previously used as a makeshift barricade. Grinning to himself, Jake prepared to finish up his count.

"Seven! Eight! Nine! And TEN-GO!" Finn spun around, momentarily confused when he didn't immediately spot Jake. The sock that suddenly soared into his vision before planting itself in his face informed the boy of his playmate's position, though.

"No fair, Jaker!"

Jake laughed, darting from his hiding place to flee the living room. "All's fair in love and dodge socks, Finn!" He dove for the hallway that led the to the back of the house, throwing himself into the room they shared. Using his stretchy powers, the magic dog hid himself flat against the bedroom wall. Stifling a snicker, he watched his young friend run in, furiously shouting. Again Finn had lost sight of the object of his pursuit, and the boy's cry of frustration spoke volumes about how incredibly routine this game of tease and chase was.

"Pst! Hey Finn!"

Finn whirled at the sound, only to give a piercing shriek of surprise as Jake leapt from the wall to tackle him with a mighty "ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!" of triumph.

Margaret rushed down the hallway on all fours, drawn by the series of crashes and high-pitched screams coming from the room the boys shared. She paused in the doorway, surprised at the sight of Jake holding Finn down and tickling the small human boy mercilessly. "It's the moment of dawning comprehension that I live for!" cackled Jake as Finn squealed for mercy. "You give up? You gonna wear your socks now? Huh? Huh?"

Finn thrashed helplessly in the floor, but still managed to accidentally hit his attacker in the face with his small fist.

"Yow!" Jake yelped, releasing his captive to check that his nose was still attached. Freed, Finn began his own counterattack, leaping up onto the magical dog and flailing at him with what appeared to be a sock.

"I WIN!" Finn shouted, jumping off of the startled Jake and running a quick victory lap around the room. The boy couldn't count, but he knew he must have managed to gain victory if Jake was no long pursuing him.

Jake laid there in the floor for a moment, stunned at the quick turnaround and the stinging sensation in his nose.

"Jake? Jake are you alright?" Margaret's voice was shrill with surprise as she approached her downed son.

"Oh.. Hey Mbom.. jus' got a sock to da dose is all," Jake replied, waving with one hand and prodding the sensitive area with the other. "Da dodge socks gob a liddle outta hand," he finished with a laugh.

Margaret scowled, parental instincts worked up and adrenaline still rushing. "Finn! Quit running around this instant! You should never hit someone like that!" Finn screeched the a halt so suddenly that he nearly tumbled over, eyes wide with anxiety. "And you, Jake! You're eighteen years old, and you should know better! Don't think I didn't hear you right before all manner of heck broke loose back here!"

Jake wasn't as profoundly affected by the parental outburst as the human boy, having seen many of them over the years. Already he could tell that his mother, a compassionate soul if ever there was one, was running out of fury to direct at them. The huge-eyed look of woe on Finn's face was eroding what little outrage the lady had left. The boy always seemed to take being scolded so personally, and it absolutely broke Margaret's heart to get him upset.

"Look just... go outside, you two," Margaret sighed. "I'll clean up in here, and call you to dinner when it's ready."

Jake gave his mom an apologetic smile. "Sure, Mom. C'mon, Finn." Finn hesitantly reached for Jake's offered hand. "S-sorry Mom," he mumbled.

Margaret gave the boy a pained smile. "That's M'am, Finn. Not Mom."

The boy dropped his gaze, agreeing "Sorry, M'am," before allowing Jake to guide him out of the room.

Behind the boys, Margaret picked up the discarded socks. She hated to correct the little human, but Joshua was right.. they couldn't let themselves get too attached to the boy. And they couldn't let him get too attached to them. Eventually, someone had to come looking for him.

...Right?

"You okay, Finn?" Jake asked as the duo stepped out onto the porch of the family home. Finn listlessly paced down the steps and walked past the front garden to hide behind the large oak tree that guarded the premises.

"Finn? Not talking to me won't make me go away, you know!" Jake called, leaving the porch to approach the tree. Finn was sitting against the tree, curled into a small ball with his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Go 'way?" the boy asked pointing to himself, his voice barely a whisper. Jake startled at the notion. "What? Why would you think that? Finn, you gotta quit freaking out every time Mom gets worked up over some little thing. It's no biggie. No one's gonna send you anywhere.. well, unless your mom or dad show up sometime."

Finn frowned, clearly uncertain if the arrival of his oft-speculated about, but never seen parents would be a good thing or a bad one. The sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon, painting the highly adapted scavanged structure that was the Dog family home in rich colors. An observer with knowledge of the late 20th or even early 21st centuries might have noted that the home appeared to be made up of a large houseboat that had been beached long ago. Here and there, additions made from salvaged vehicles, houses, and even other boats were noticable on the small, single story structure. A few fireflies appeared in the tall grasses that ringed the yard, spitting little flames at each other in the late afternoon light.

"Look Finn," Jake attempted again, "We love you to death, we really do. Mom and Dad just don't want you to be too upset when your parents show up for you. They're gonna come looking for you one day, and maybe they'll even call you something other than Finn. But to us, you'll always be Finn, and we'll always remember you. I mean, you're like my little bro, you know?"

Finn looked up, curiously. "Bro?"

"Yeah, you know, like.. a friend for life. A best friend. A brother. A bro, dude."

The boy's face lit up with a crooked smile, and he reached over to hug the magical dog tightly. "My bro, Jaker" he announced, getting a pat on the head from his companion. "Someday man, you gotta learn to say my name right." They sat together like that, watching the fireflies attempt to set the fields on fire, until Margaret's call summoned them in for dinner.


	3. Three Years, part one

AN: Thanks to my great reviewers! I'm glad you're enjoying the tale so far!

* * *

It was a beautiful day, Margaret thought to herself. The sun was shining, the smog was almost unseasonably light, and the radioactivity count was at an all-time low. It was the kind of day that made you grateful to be alive and out of doors, even if you were on your way to do mundane activities such as errands. The little wagon full of excess vegetables from the garden rattled along behind her as she walked.

Her companion was also buoying her spirits. Joshua and Jake had gone on a fishing expedition, which had left her with the family's young guest. Finn darted ahead of her on the old dirt road, investigating wildflowers, insects, the thick gnarled trees that lined the ancient thoroughfare, and the odd small animal that let him get close enough. Margaret laughed aloud as the boy paused under a massive oak, staring up and up at its expansively reaching branches until he overbalanced and fell over backwards.

"The trees are HUGE!" the boy bellowed, enthralled with the view his new viewpoint provided him. He reached his arms out towards the thick, green forest canopy that almost concealed the brilliant blue sky, making enthusiastic but nonsensical sounds of appreciation as he lay on the ground.

Margaret paused as she approached the child, leaning over him to vocally prod him back into motion. "We'll never make it to the store if you lay down for a nap, you know!" she teased, laughing as Finn bolted to his feet and fled behind the enormous oak, proclaiming his innocence of all things related to being tired.

Making the six mile trek to the store was a tedious task to the lady, but for the three year old, it was a rare treat to venture out of the yard. The Dog family didn't need much, they never had. The massive garden behind the house grew plenty to eat, and most of the basic necessities of life - such as plumbing and furniture - could be scavanged from the abundance scattered across the land. Margaret's dear departed mother, a quintessential flower child, had often waxed poetic about the generousity of nature. To this day, it was impossible for the lady to see a kitchen sink protruding from a pile of fallen leaves without thinking of what her mother would have had to say about it.

Finn had made no move to leave his hiding place behind the large oak tree, but Margaret continued slowly down the road, noting how it was overgrown in places with the lush grasses of midsummer. She knew that Finn, while not an excessively clingy child, would not allow her to leave his sight. He'd never been so far from home before, but between his natural inclination to stick close and the reassuring notion of where he was that her nose was giving her, she had every reason to expect that the two of them could make this trip without incident.

In the three years that their family had cared for the human boy, he had never accepted or liked being alone. Getting Finn to sleep through the night had been an ordeal until Margaret had discovered that tucking him in snugly made him feel more secure. She wasn't certain how normal it was for a human child to want to sleep in a pillowcase, but she did know that the family as a whole slept better for it.

The faint sound of rustling leaves reached her sensitive ears, and the rest of her senses informed her shortly afterward that Finn had scampered ahead to hide in a thick bush a few yards down the dirt road. Margaret smiled to herself and continued onward, and when Finn leapt out, shouting "RAAWWWWRRRR!" at her, she gave him a shock by dropping the wagon's handle and darting into the brush after him, barking vigorously.

The boy squealed in mock-fright, turning and running back the way they'd come, darting around trees and dodging branches while laughing almost hysterically at the turnaround. Margaret slowed to a stop beside the dusty road, giggling at the both of them. Then she heard it.

A sudden yelp, a thud, and a pained howl from just out of sight. The faint smell of blood caused her heart to seize, and she raced towards the treeline. More horrible possibilities than she'd ever given her imagination credit for being able to come up with flashed through her mind as she followed her ears and her nose to where Finn was laying on a bare spot of ground, whimpering.

"Finn? What happened?"

The boy babbled something through his crying that she couldn't quite make out, but the way that the loose gravel beneath him was disturbed pointed to a simple trip and fall. The way he was clutching his knees implied heavily that he'd managed to land on them.

"Let me see," she soothed, stroking the top of his head to soothe him. "Let's see how bad it is, Little Bit." Reluctantly, Finn released the death grip on his knees, throwing his arms around her as she took a look at the damage. It wasn't too bad, really. A few layers of skin scraped away, and just a little blood. She carefully brushed the dirt and gravel off of his skin as he sobbed. Most likely it was scare of the fall that was causing him to cry so. She released the child for a moment, glancing around the thick overgrowth before spotting a thin, spindly young tree of the Cornaceae family a short distance away. Mumbling some reassurance to the boy, she retrieved a few of the small leaves, crushing them up in her hands before gently rubbing the bruised foliage on his battered knees.

"There now," she coaxed, gratified that the pained wailing had subsided into a soft sniffling. "We'll still needs to wash you up really well when we get home, but I think that should get us by until then." She slid an arm around the youngster, brushing some dirt off of his face and kissing his forehead.

For his part, Finn was now studiously examining the leafy bandages adorning his knees. "How do you know stuff like this, M'am?" he finally asked, pointing at the damaged greenery. Margaret smiled enigmatically.

"That? I learned that from the Little People," she replied.

Finn's face contorted into a strange combination of disbelief and awe as he tried to sort out exactly what she meant, but he made no protest as she pulled him back to his feet.

"There we are, almost as good as new. Let's see if those legs still work," she prompted, which was all the encouragement Finn needed to try a few cautious steps. Those steps almost immediately turned into a full-tilt run as he delighted in being mobile again. "Ten seconds ago he was incapable of movement, now he's a torpedo," she laughed to herself, following him as he grabbed the handle to the battered wagon and insistantly tugged it along.

The old store was bustling with activity when Margaret and Finn reached the gate. The old single-story structure might, at one time, have been whitewashed, but the old clapboard walls held only the faintest evidence of ever having held paint. The ancient yardlight situated at the apex of the roof, facing the road, was on continuously, emitting a low hum as though on the verge of shorting out. Wonders of ancient technology being as they were, the prehistoric bulb still burned, though. Creatures of all kinds crowded the storefront, taking advantage of the monthly swap meet to trade excess items for desired ones. Food, clothing, raw materials, scavanged supplies, anything and everything could be had for cash or trade.

"Well bless my soul, who have you brought us today, Margie?"

The lady dog smiled broadly as a little green elephant approached her. Finn, intimidated by all the strange people, gave a low, uncertain growl at the stranger.

"Finn, stop that!" Margaret objected, a little surprised and not a little mortified that an old family friend was being greeted in such a fashion. "I'm sorry, Tree Trunks, Finn's never been to the store before. He's a little nervous."

"THIS is Finn? Well aren't you just as cute as a bug! Come over here darlin', let's have a look at you!" Tree Trunks gushed, waving her trunk at the suddenly shy little boy. Finn dutifully approached, but hung back a little, as though confused by something. The little elephant didn't notice, she was too busy exclaiming over him.

"Aw, look at you in your little hat! Aren't you just precious! And.. Oh! Oh sweetie what did you do to your poor knees?" Without waiting for an answer, the elephant reached into the basket she had been carrying. "You know what makes skinned knees feel better?" she asked, "My homemade apple pie!" So saying, she offered a slice to the child.

Finn eagerly accepted the offering, sniffing at it curiously before giving it an exploratory lick. His eyes abruptly widened at the taste, and he attempted to cram the entire slice into his mouth at once. "You never had apple pie before, hon?" the amused elderly elephant chuckled. Finn shook his head in the negative as he finished pushing the remains of the pastry in his face. Around the mouthful of food, he shouted something that could have either been "This is delicious!" or "Trees are deciduous".

"Finn, mind your manners!" Margaret exclaimed, shaking her head at the spectacle. "Oh, don't worry about it," Tree Trunks chuckled. "It's not every day that a boy tries apple pie for the first time. And come to think of it, it's not every day that I get to meet a little ol' human boy! Margie honey, you'd better hurry if you want to barter that produce, the traders are gonna start closing up shop any minute."

The lady dog startled at the information. "I didn't realize we got here so late.. Oh, Tree Trunks, would you do me a favor and watch Finn for just a few minutes? I've got to get this done fast!" When the little elephant nodded, Margaret took Finn's hand, signalling she wanted his full, if sticky, attention.

"Finn, I need you to stay here, with Tree Trunks. Do not go anywhere. Do not touch anything. I'll be right back in just a couple of minutes. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded, happily picking pieces of pie crust off of his shirt and eating them. Sparing the pair a pleading look, the lady dog grabbed her wagon of vegetables and pressed through the crowd. Almost immediately, Finn looked up, apparently dumbstruck that he'd been left behind even though he'd just agreed to it.

"W-Where'd she go?" he complained, craning his neck to look through the crowd. "M'am? M'am!"

"Don't y'all worry none, Margie's gonna be right back," Tree Trunks replied, "We'd better stay right here, so she can find us. In the meanwhile, would you like another piece of pie?" Finn took the treat, but chewed it slowly, pensively, as he watched the crowd milling around the store. A few curious passers-by stared at him, but the child didn't seem to notice. Every so often, he'd let out the faintest of whimpers.

Tree Trunks shooed another group of gawkers away. These nosy people were just downright inconsiderate. She was surprised to notice Finn staring at her when she turned back around. She was more surprised by the question he asked her. Not sure what to say, she laughed it off. At last, Margaret the dog reappeared, towing a wagon of clothing items, fabric, and some soaps. The lady smiled in gratification that her young charge had remained where she'd left him, but before she could comment on the situation, the elderly elephant had taken her arm and pulled her aside.

"Margie Finn.. asked me what kind of a dog I am while you were gone. Honey, does he realize that he's not a dog?"

Margaret started to protest that yes, of course the boy knew, but then she saw Finn staring at a small orange cat in a broad black hat and matching boots. Before she could say anything, Finn had begun barking at the feline, who gave him an odd look, but eased cautiously away from the human child.

"I... I don't know," she was finally forced to admit.


	4. Three Years, part two

AN: This chapter, unlike the previous ones, comes right after the last one. Really, it's more of a chapter 3.5 than anything. Thanks you guys, for your kind words!

* * *

Fishing, the teenager reflected, was an overrated pass time. He slouched on the ancient wooden porch steps, which age and the elements had caused to warp slightly from their once pristine condition. The wood was rough-veined about the edges, smoothing out in front of the door and areas of high foot traffic. Jake leaned against the leftmost roof support, arms stretched at impossible angles as he fought the huge knot of line that he considered to be the most impressive result of half a day's labor on the rock-strewn shore of the fast-moving brook that wound through the thick-forested lands behind the house.

Certainly, it had been a productive day. His father had seemed quite satisfied with their catch, but the teenager was bored to tears with the tedium of waiting for his hook to snare something.. and then there was all the work of wresting his catch to land.. and then more work in cleaning it. All in all, fishing was not one of the teenage dog's favorite things to do.

Jake's sensitive ears perked, alerting him to the approach of two individuals and a well-worn little red wagon laden with goods. If not for the telltale squeaky left rear wheel, the magical dog would not have guessed that it was his mother and Finn returning. The human boy was typically loud and chatty enough to be heard from quite a distance away, and Jake's mother was nearly as talkative. And the way she doted on Finn... well, let's just say that their arrival should have been heralded by an ongoing verbal commotion of some sort.

A little concerned, the nineteen year old abandoned the length of hopelessly tangled line he was attempting to sort out, rising from the front porch to meet the returning party. Little Finn came into view first, looking unusually subdued. Behind him, Margaret towed the wagon of supplies, which bounced every time the wheels discovered a rock or depression in the old dirt road. Though Finn noted Jake's approach, his mother seemed to stare past him with a look of deep introspective concern.

"Hey Finn, you in trouble?" he called, a little surprised that the boy did not respond with the customary "A little bit" that had become like a catchphrase, or as Margaret was prone to use it, a second name for the child. Instead, Finn glanced fretfully back at Margaret, who apparently had only just noticed how close the duo was to home.

"Dude, you broke everything in the store, didn't you?" Jake grinned at the memory of his own first (and nearly last) trip to the store, earning a betrayed look from his small roommate. "I didn't do it!" the boy cried, throwing his hands in the air in an exaggerated expression of confusion. The dog snickered at the reaction. It wasn't nice, but Finn tended to be such a reactionary, it was hard not to want to provoke him. It was, honestly, Jake's favorite game.

"Jake? Where's your father?"

The teenager hooked a thumb back towards the house, making it grow into a large arrow-shaped signpost. "He's out back, cleaning up what we caught. We got some nice tires, and a few boots. I don't think we've got any that Finn will grow into for a while, though. You know-"

"Take everything inside, will you? And get Finn cleaned up, he's scraped his knees on our trip."

So saying, Margaret pressed the wagon handle into her son's free hand, striking out towards the family home with the determined pace of someone on an important mission. So intent was she, that she cut through her own flowerbeds of wild iris and pitcherflowers, something she had threatened the boys out of doing long ago.

"Finn, what did you do?" Jake demanded, confused and eager to get in on what he assumed to be very juicy gossip. The human child stomped his feet in agitation, kicking at a loose rock with a small, dirty, much-worn shoe.

"I said I didn't do it!" Finn complained, frustrated. "I was good! I was really good! I stayed! I ate pie! I didn't touch anything!"

"You ate pie?" Jake gasped, momentarily distracted. "You mean Tree Trunks was there?"

Sensing that he'd won some sort of prize over Jake, Finn nodded, standing a little straighter and brushing some leftover particles of pastry crust off of his shirt. Jake fumed momentarily, before remembering why he was cross-examining the boy to begin with.

"Wait a minute, if you did what Mom said, and didn't break anything? Then why are you in trouble?"

The three year old visibly deflated, the pie victory forgotten. "I don't know..."

* * *

"Joshua?"

"Back here, Love. Just cleaning up a bit."

Margaret found her husband studying a pile of apparent debris salvaged during the so-called fishing expedition. One particular tire seemed to capture his attention, and he eased it upright to facilitate the examination of the object. The dog noted the width and diameter of the tire, measured the tread depth, and carefully checked the condition of the material for breaks and flaws before straightening.

"I think we've got a winner here, Margaret," he commented, wiping down the wheel and pushing it over to the base of a sturdy tree with large, broad leaves. "This one's ripe for swinging, I can tell." He patted the item, thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Joshua, something... odd happened today at the store. Do you... have we ever told Finn he's not a dog?"

The gentleman dropped the tire on his foot in surprise. "Wha-YOW!" With a hearty shove, Joshua dislodged the offending unwieldy object. "What makes you think he believes he's a dog?" he asked, checking to make certain his toes were all still attached.

"Well, he did bark at a cat in front of the store today."

Joshua grinned, amused at the image his mind was conjuring up of Finn barking at some hapless feline. "So?"

Margaret crossed her arms, irritated that her dear husband wasn't taking the notion that their young guest had species identification issues seriously. "And he asked Tree Trunks what sort of dog she was. Dear, I think he believes everyone is some sort of dog."

"Hmm.. I see your point. Well, maybe I should have a talk with him. Maybe we haven't been quite clear enough with him. You know Love, perhaps it's time we let him out of the house more, broaden his horizons a bit."

The wife sighed, nodding in reluctant agreement. "I imagine that his parents wouldn't be too happy if we gave Finn back, thinking he was a dog."

Joshua didn't respond at first, glancing towards the tire he'd left under the sycamore tree. "Yes, I suppose you're right," he finally muttered, picking up a few loose lengths of rope he'd been evaluating before thinking to ask "Where is the 'little bit' of trouble, anyway?"

Margaret smiled at the awkwardly-presented endearment. "I sent him in with Jake to get cleaned up. He's had a big day, walking all the way to the store and back. He scraped up his knees a bit falling in the woods, but you know that he snapped right out of it? By the time we got to the store, he was running around like a hyperactive cannonball again."

Her husband exhaled heavily as he straightened up, fighting the urge to grin at the description.

"We ran into Tree Trunks, as I mentioned earlier, and she had some of her fresh apple pie on hand. You know dear, I think I know what Finn's new favorite food is. Maybe I'll make him one for his next birthday.."

"Margaret.."

"...Joshua?"

The couple locked gazes for a moment. Each fighting the urge to point out that the other was obviously making plans for the future that involved their young guest. After all Finn's next "birthday", or rather his next "brought home for a visit until his parents arrive" day, wasn't for almost a full year. And Jake, almost out of his teen years and highly creative with his elastic powers, obviously had no use for the tire swing that Joshua was planning.

They didn't need to say it, they both knew that they were thinking too far ahead.

"I thought.. maybe.. until his folks show up..."

"Y-yes... and if he's still here next year, maybe I'll.."

Margaret and Joshua both looked away, awkwardly. The husband reached out and took his wife's hand, patting it reassuringly. "It'll be alright, dear. One day at a time, you know." When she nodded, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I think I'd better go talk to Finn about what he really is."

He started to pull away, but Margaret held fast to his hand for a moment. "Joshua.. don't upset him. He knows he's not here forever, but we don't want him scared and confused about why."

"I know Love," he replied, heart tugging dully. "I know."

* * *

"Okay, so if you didn't break anything, and you didn't make Mom late... then what?"

"I already told you! I DON'T KNOW!" Finn fairly howled, tired of the repeated questioning. When the boy failed to admit to anything, Jake was forced to re-think the situation. Something was really bothering his mother, and that she'd go right to his father before disclosing what it was could only mean that it was something big.

If there was one thing Jake couldn't stand, it was being out of the loop. Nobody but nobody was supposed to be more in touch with the goings-on around the family home than him. There had to be some way to prod more information out of this kid.

Finn, freshly bandaged with supplies from the first aid kit under the kitchen sink, swung his legs as he sat on the citrus-colored countertop, salvaged in part from some long-ago fast food restaurant. The boy was tired and agitated, letting his heels hit the ill-fitting cabinet doors as a show of his annoyance. For all that, the dog noticed that the boy was careful to avoid hitting the glass-fronted doors in favor of the mis-matched wooden ones that had been painted to complement the bright counter.

Beneath the frustration Finn was exhibiting, Jake could see the telltale signs of the child's anxiety. His parents didn't seem to realize it, but every time that Finn got into some sort of mischief (as the boy invariably did), the small human seemed to become overly frightened.

The child was gently reminded from the time he'd learned to talk, that he was not really part of their family. Though Finn had never been threatened with the idea of being pushed out of the home, in fact the only suggestion that he might be made to leave was during speculation about his parents coming for him, the boy lived in fear of the notion. Where he'd come up with it was a mystery to Jake, and the boy had only whispered it to him once, in the stumbling language of a toddler. The dog wouldn't remember the incident except for times like these, when the boy stared off nervously into space and fidgeted as he waited for some reprimand to fall upon him. It was hard to reassure Finn, the dog reflected. The kid was a perpetual worrier about some things.

Annoyed at how somber the normally cheerful Finn was behaving and wanting some outlet for his frustration is not being in on whatever was going on, Jake playfully shoved the threadbare white hat backwards on the boy's head, reaching underneath to muss up his wild hair. That stupid thing... it was nearly too small, and it made the kid look completely silly. In fact, it was downright girlish. On top of that, it still harbored traces of that strange, alien smell that set Jake's nerves on edge. He just wanted to bury the thing in the deepest hole he could dig. Finn yelped in surprise at the attack before rallying, launching himself off of the counter top to wrestle with his best friend with a shout of challenge.

"Finn?"

The boys froze at Joshua's voice, and Jake noticed the startled look that filled Finn's eyes for a moment at the reminder that he was, somehow, in for a lecture. To Jake's amazement, his father walked over and gently pulled the human boy off of him rather than complain about the two of them roughhousing indoors. "Finn, I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Dad, what's he in trouble for? He swears he didn't do anything!" Jake interrupted, feeling compelled to try and defend the boy against whatever unwitting wrong he'd committed, and increasingly desperate to find out what on Ooo the child could possibly have done. Margaret chose that moment to push open the back door, a small bunch of orange wildflowers for the dining room table clutched in her hand. She side-stepped the boys' conversation, intent on finding a receptacle for her flora.

"Trouble? He's not in trouble, Jake. Your mother says she talked to Tree Trunks today, and she seemed a bit... confused by something Finn said." Joshua sat the three year old back on his feet, turning to look at his son in surprise.

"Tree Trunks is confused? That's it?" It wasn't often that Jake let himself get carried away over something trivial, but this was just ridiculous. All this time worrying and trying to figure out what had set his mother off... and it was just an idle comment from an old lady elephant? He'd been trying to come up with some way to console this kid who refused to ever be completely comforted about some things... and for what? He noticed his mother, flowers still in hand, pause in sorting through the glassware to shoot him a disapproving look for his tone. Well.. Tree Trunks was old. It wasn't as though it was unusual for her to be confused by something.

Frustrated and still wound up with energy from their brief play-fight, Jake stalked over to the boy, crossing his arms and looking thoroughly put out. "Finn, let's clear this up right now. You. Are. A. Boy. Maybe if you didn't wear that girly baby hat, people would know!" So saying, the young dog reached snatch the boy's hat from where it had been knocked askew on his head, intending to hold it hostage for some price as yet to be named. A new round of "Annoy the Boy" would go a long way toward putting him in a better mood. Finn immediately yelped in protest, flailing for the only link he had with his long-lost kin.

There was an ominous ripping sound, and all movement in the kitchen immediately stopped. Margaret's hand flew to her mouth, stifling the sharp yelp of surprise that threatened to leap from her mouth at the sight before her.

A jagged tear separated the two halves of the white hat; half in Finn's hands, half in Jake's. The magical dog gaped at the damage for a moment, unable to vocalize his regret over letting his irritation and the game get out of hand. Finn grabbed the damaged head wear back from his best friend, running for the door. The boy paused at the portal, and Jake braced himself to hear the little human say something like "I'll never forgive you" or "I hate you!", but Finn was silent. The look on his face hurt the young dog more than any words could have, though.

With a glare of betrayal and hurt thrown back at Jake, Finn raced from the house. Joshua pointed at his son, then the floor, indicating for him to stay put, before darting out after the human. Finally finding his voice, Jake shouted after them both.

"Finn! Finn, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."

His mother, arms crossed and the look on her face that meant a serious trip down guilt lane was coming, moved to stand between him and the door. "Jake! What were you thinking?"

"I just.. I... I don't know.." Jake finally admitted, slumping a bit and hanging his head. With a sigh, Margaret walked over to her son and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Jake, you may not have meant it, but now it's done. What do you plan to do about it?" The teenager looked up at his mother, the melody of a song about empathy that she'd taught him as a pup playing in his head.

"I'm open to suggestions, Mom."

"Finn! Finn, stop before I keel over!"

The boy stumbled to a stop just inside the treeline that marked the edge of the family yard, sitting down facing away from the house and hugging his knees to his chest. Joshua trailed behind, out of breath from the short sprint across the yard. He paused, noting that Finn had stopped running, and took the opportunity to catch his breath. Ah yes, there was the old smoking damage, coming out to play again, he thought with a wheeze.

Collecting himself, he stepped into the edge of the forest, purposely walking past the huddled form of Finn, who looked up in surprise that he'd been bypassed. The blond boy rose slowly to his feet, trailing after Joshua as though unsure if he was supposed to or not. Pleased that Finn had followed along so easily, the dog didn't speak until they were out of sight of the house, and well on their way to the stream down the sun-dappled path.

"Finn, Jake didn't mean to tear your hat. You know that, right?"

There was a long pause before the boy responded. "Yeah.."

"I'm not saying that what he did was okay, but Jake's at a difficult age, and it gets to him in weird ways sometimes. Sometimes it makes him act like a... well, like a-"

"A huge fart?"

Joshua couldn't help but laugh out loud at the description. For it's crudeness and simplicity, it was still very, very apt.

"Yes, he does act like a huge fart sometimes, doesn't he? But you know, he doesn't mean anything by it. He's about to be an adult, and he doesn't know how to be one yet. Between you and me, I think it scares him a little. So he's still flailing around acting like an overgrown pup and driving us all to distraction."

The dog clasped his hands behind his back as he traced the meandering trail through the forest that led to the stream. He could hear the sound of the fresh water tumbling over the loose stones of the riverbed, and just that alone eased his mind. He risked a look behind him and noted that Finn was easing up beside him instead of following at a distance. The damaged remains of his white hat were still clasped in the child's small hands.

"Finn, Jake will grow out of this phase of his, and hopefully it's going to be soon. In fact, it had better be soon or I'm probably going to lose my marbles. You may be a little young to understand this, Finn, but becoming an adult is a very stressful time. You have to take stock of who you are, what you are, and what you want to be. It sounds simple enough, but it's really one of the hardest things that any of us ever have to do."

Joshua reached over and clasped a hand on the boy's shoulder, guiding him along the rough-hewn trail with the expertise of someone who knew the territory well enough to walk it blindfolded. Finn looked up at him, expression unreadable, but clearly thoughtful. "Finn," the elder began again, as the two of them rounded the final curve before the narrow trail opened up to the riverbed, which sparkled and gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight. "you know that we're different, don't you?"

The boy blinked, unresponsive for a moment. "I.. guess so?" Finn reached down and picked up a flat, smooth stone before throwing it into the slow-moving, sunlight-stained water, disrupting their reflections. "We're all different, aren't we, Sir?"

"Some of us more than others," Joshua agreed, patting the child on the back before picking up a small rock of his own. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it skimming lightly over the surface of the water. Finn watched this with an expression of awe on his young face, quickly reaching for a new pebble to try and replicate the feat.

"Finn, this world is full of fascinating creatures, all different. You saw a lot of different people today at the store, didn't you?"

The boy nodded, tossing his stone towards the river with purpose. It bounced off of a group of thick reeds growing along the shore before it sank with a splash into the depths of the stream, only a few orange-gold gem-like drops of water betraying where it had punctured the surface before they too vanished back where they'd come from. "I met Tree Trunks, she's a different kind of dog, isn't she?" The youngster's face contorted for a moment. "Real different," he added, after a moment of contemplation.

"Margaret, Jake and I are dogs," Joshua continued, reaching to guide Finn's hand as the child attempted again to skip a stone across the river's surface. "Tree Trunks is a little elephant. She's not a dog at all." This time, the rock bounced once off the water before vanishing. He pulled the boy closer to the edge of the water, pointing at their wavering reflections. "You're going to be growing up very soon, Finn. And it's important that you know that you're not like us. You're not a dog. You, my boy, are a human."

Finn's brow furrowed with confusion. He of course knew that he wasn't quite like the family that had taken him in, but now, in the absence of his familiar head wear, the differences seemed more pronounced, somehow. "What's a who-man?" he finally asked, getting a shrug of helplessness in return. "To be honest, I really don't know much about them. But you're teaching us all a little more about them every day," Joshua responded with a grin. Idly, he picked up a section of a thick reed that had been broken by the little one's earlier toss, inspecting it as his companion considered his words.

The boy straightened, clasping his hands behind his head. "Is it a good thing?" he finally asked, this time getting a fond chuckle from the older dog. "So far? It most assuredly is. Let's head back home." As the duo retraced their steps through the thick forest in the fading late afternoon light, Finn still seemed contemplative. "Am I still the same? If I'm a who-man?"

"A human, you mean? Why wouldn't you be?"

Finn jumped over a thick tree root that he noticed growing alongside the trail, giving the elder a worried look. "I dunno.. maybe hu-mans are bad?" The child carefully enunciated the alien word, clearly not sure what to make of it.

"You're not bad, are you?" Joshua retorted, fighting the urge to chuckle at the way Finn wildly shook his head no. "Very well then, even if some humans may be bad, all of them can't be. And you're proof of that." The gentleman paused for a moment, plucking the leaves off of the reed he'd picked up at the water's edge. "Even if most humans were bad, it's like this reed. It's just a weed down by the river, but did you know that if we put some holes in it, it becomes a flute? Being born as one thing doesn't mean you can't become something else. You're a very good boy, Finn. We're all proud of you."

The boy grinned, though the smile fell from his face momentarily as they emerged back into the yard behind the family home. Jake, eyes wet and contrite as Joshua had ever seen him, stood there alone, anxiously awaiting their return. Both the older dog and the human boy were surprised when the teen suddenly ran forward to hug the child.

"Dude, I'm really really really sorry. I never, never wanted to hurt you or mess up your stuff. I mean it. Mom's gonna try and fix your hat, but she thinks it might be a little too fragile for you to keep wearing." The little human's expression shifted rapidly from hopeful to anxious. Before the boy could comment, Jake pressed onwards. "So, if it's cool with you, Mom's going to teach me how to sew. And I'll make you a new, super awesome hat, if that's okay."

Jake released Finn, who was staring at him as though he'd never seen the dog before. "So... is that cool? I mean, I'll understand if you're still mad at me.. " The magical dog toed the ground, unhappily.

Finn reached out and hugged his best friend, shaking his head. "Don't cry, Jaker," the small figure admonished. "It's okay." Jake swiped halfheartedly at his face with one arm. "I'm not crying, I just got something in my eye, that's all!"

Joshua sighed, crossing his arms. "You're a horrible liar, Jake."

"That's because he's a big fart guy," the human boy responded, knowledgeably. "But he'll grow out of it."


	5. Three Years, Three Months

AN: Thanks for the story watches, guys!

* * *

Jake carefully balanced the items his mother had asked for in his arms as he eased, with equal parts care and satisfaction, into the small room he and Finn shared. His mother, Margaret was perched on a one-armed wooden chair beside the lower of the two beds. The boys' beds had, at one time, been part of a deluxe sleeper cab on an semi truck cab. The lady was fretfully attempting to tend to the young boy, who had become very restless and frustrated with being bed-bound over the past few days.

The magical dog struggled to keep a straight face as he carefully passed his mother a bowl of hot broth, which was offered to the boy, who immediately pushed it away and begain complaining anew. Taking the bowl back, Jake offered a cool, damp washcloth next. This too was shoved away after Margaret attempted to wipe the feverish youngster's face with it.

Jake would never admit it, but a small, petty part of him was really enjoying Finn's little bout of illness. Seeing the normally compliant and helpful Finn become an irritable, frustrated, taxing pain in the neck to the two elders of the household was reassuring in a way. It wasn't that he didn't care for Finn. The rather lop-sided attempt at making the child a new hat that rested beside him on the pillow was testament to how much the boy meant to him. Doubtless he would have shared much more in his parents' worry over the turn if he had not heard his father mischieviously refering to Finn as "the good one" a few nights prior to the boy coming down with a nasty cold.

The little human was a model patient at first, sleeping through the majority of his early illness, and taking the foul-smelling herbal remedies that Margaret devised for him without complaint. That was beginning to seem like a lifetime of used handkercheifs ago, however. It seemed that the more the boy recovered, the more he acted out.

As though reading Jake's mind, Finn let loose a new cry of annoyance.

"I'm tired of being in bed! I'm tired of soup! I'm tired of sleeping! I wanna get up! I wanna go outside!"

As his mother attempted to calm the child down, Jake wished that the conversation his father had about three months previously about being a human had come a few years earlier. Finn was beginning sound like he was going to let loose with a legitimate howl. A quick glance at Margaret confirmed that her gentle, patient soul was just about to reach it's limit.

"Hey Mom, want me to spot you here for a while?"

Margaret turned at the inquiry, a little surprised but definitely grateful if the little involuntary wag her tail gave was any indication.

"Are you sure, Jake? He's pretty wound up this afternoon."

Jake waved her concern away. "Ah, it's fine Mom. I've got a foolproof plan for dealing with this." So saying, he raised an arm, willing the hand to contort into a hammer-like shape. "This is a job for... Mallet-Hand!" he proclaimed, taking a few practice swipes at the air over Finn's head while making "whooosh" and "ka-wham!" sounds.

"You'd better not," his mother warned, all the play gone from her frazzled nerves and only desperate exhaustion remaining.

"Nah, I was only fooling," the son retorted, making a show of patting the exasperated human boy on the head with one normal palm while allowing the transformed hand to hover over the boy like a blunted sword of Damocles. His mother stared at him, gaze hard and tired. He winked, to show he meant no harm. She stared at him for another long moment, as though searching out every thought in his head by way of his eyes.

Finally, Margaret sighed, rolling her eyes and turning to leave the room. "Don't maim each other," she called back over her shoulder as she departed. Jake chuckled to himself before settling into the seat his mother had just vacated. He glanced over at Finn, noting the way that the boy was glaring back, full of pent up restless energy and boredom.

"I wanna go outside," the human complained, kicking idly at the covers. "Forget it," Jake responded, reaching to set the ignored cloth and soup bowl on the short crate that served as a bedside table. Desperate for something to distract the boy with, he picked up a thick book from the floor . "If Mom sees you up, she's going to blow a gasket. You've never seen Ma totally lose it, but trust me, it's not pretty." Jake shuddered, his stretchy powers causing his skin to literally crawl for a moment with the memory of some long-ago horror.

"Dude, you don't want that to happen," the dog advised. "So you're staying in bed."

Finn whined, throwing the blankets of the bed in his unhappy fit. "But I'm so boooooooooooooorred! There's nothing to doooooooooooooooooooo!"

"Hmmm..." Jake considered the complaint before raising the book and waving it at the boy. "Wanna read a story, then?"

Finn took the hefty volume, opening it to a random page. The dog nodded to himself in satisfaction, reaching now for the neglected musical instrument that rested on his bunk, above his ill roommate. The boy gazed with a total lack of comprehension at the strange symbols and lines that filled the pages, turning page after page, until finally he came to a picture. Here he paused. Pictures were good. Pictures he could understand.

"Who's that?" he asked, drawing the attention of his bunkmate, who'd begun tuning his viola in the brief respite. The dog frowned, intent on perfecting the sound of the strings as he drew his bow over them. "Read the caption, dude!"

At this, Finn crossed his arms and glared, allowing the thick book to fall nearly out of his lap as he matter-of-factly replied "I can't read, Jake! You read it to me!"

Jake looked up, drawn both to the reminder that the boy was completely unschooled in letters (which should have been painfully obvious), and the marvellous fact that the child had recently begun using his proper name. Indeed, "Jaker" still popped up in his vocabulary from time to time, but usually only in moments of fear or duress. Gently setting aside the musical instrument, Jake leaned over the edge of the bed to examine the source of the boy's curiosity.

"Oh, that dude is awesome, man. A first class adventurer." Jake paused to appreciate the image of the human man in the picture, who stood triumphantly in a dark grotto full of glittering treasure. The stance, the broad shoulders, the hat that sat at a cocky angle upon his head, all of them spoke of a personality that was strong, brave, and sure of itself.

"What's an... ad-ven-tur-er?" the smaller human beside him asked, carefully pronouncing the alien word. Jake glanced back and forth between the enthralled little boy and the image of the tall man on the page. Belatedly, it occurred to Jake that the little one beside him was seeing one of his own kind for the first time. He looked at the boy's face, and noted the singular wonder and recognition that had set it almost aglow.

Or maybe that was still the fever?

At any rate, this was the first time that Finn had ever seen anything human, other than his own reflection. And it was also the first time that the boy had ever expressed an interest in venturing into the world beyond their small home. Jake felt oddly glad that he'd shared this milestone with the boy, but discomfitted that it bore the omen of coming changes.

Considering that he was going to be striking out on his own in six months time, the magical dog was wary of too many alterations to the comfortable routine that he enjoyed. For a moment, the realization that little Finn would likely not be so little for much longer played fitfully on his conscious mind. Finn stared at Jake, expectantly waiting to hear more about the mysterious concept of the "Adventurer".

Well, at least he was calm and not screaming to go outside anymore.

"An adventurer is somebody who goes out on adventures. They fight monsters, rescue those in need, and restore order. Sometimes, there's even treasure to be had," Jake supplied, pointing to the colorful gems in the background of the image. "Some adventurers even go on to be great heroes."

The little boy's hand reached out to carefully touch the image. "Was he a hero?" the boy asked. The dog made a motion somewhere between a nod and a shrug. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. He was a righteous guy who always tried to do the right thing, and fought evil and ignorance to bring knowledge to the world. With his fists, his mind, and pretty much everything at his disposal. At least, that's what the stories about him say. So yeah, I guess you could call him a hero."

"What's his name?" The boy's voice was scarcely more than a whisper now, and Jake could sense that something momentous was taking place in Finn's young, feverish brain.

"They called him Dr. Jones," Jake responded at last, pointing to the name emblazoned upon the image. "One of the most legendary adventurers, ever."

Finn's dark eyes widened in awe. "One of? You mean there's more?"

Jake stood, crossing the small, messy room that the two boys shared to consider the small bookshelf. When he'd been a little older than Finn, he too had become enamored of the rough and tumble life (and freedom from authority figures) that the adventurer represented. Consequently, he had several books on the subject.

The dog regarded the dusty shelf for a moment, wondering how long it had been since he'd last looked at any of the volumes contained in it. A few dusty cobwebs covered the shelf and the small pieces from broken toys that were scattered in the recess. Finally selecting an old favorite that also featured humans, Jake carried his choice back to the boy.

Finn snatched the object away, as though afraid that his friend would change his mind about sharing it. The boy flipped through the pages until he finally found an image to look at. A short human woman with striking red hair pointed at them, blazing fury in her eyes and some sort of glowy effect around her extended hand. Behind her, a confused-looking blonde man with a large object clutched in his hand looked on.

"What's that?" Finn asked, pointing at something unfamiliar on the page.

"The magic sword?"

"What's a sword?"

Jake chuckled, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "It's an instrument to slay evil." Finn's large eyes became comparitively huge. "Slay? You mean like kill? Why!" Jake patted the boy's head, reaching behind him to fluff up the pillows.

"Well, 'cause they're evil, I guess. If evil stuff doesn't get slain, it can destroy good stuff. That's what makes a hero a hero, trying to destroy evil villains and stuff so that good can go on being... good." Jake trailed off, not sure how to explain it without making the entire concept of good vs. evil sound ridiculous and cheesy. He needn't have worried.

Finn dropped the book, leaping out of bed to attack the bookshelf. "More! Show me another one!"

It went on like that for hours, with Jake alternately explaining the adventures of the heroes and heroines in his old books and reading them to the boy. Some of them about humans, but as the tales became more and more modern, increasingly they were about other creatures. Finally, Finn's energy ran out in the middle of the epic story of Billy.

"Me too", the boy mumbled, allowing his best friend to tuck him extra-securely into bed as he yawned a hero-sized yawn. "I wanna be an adventurer, too."

Jake gently gathered the heavy books from the bed, reshelving them. Finally, he reached the old leather-bound edition that had started the whole mess. He regarded the human man's picture for a moment before shutting away the image of the legendary Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. for now. He carefully sat the volume back on the crate beside the bed and reached to collect the long-neglected damp cloth and now-empty soup bowl.

Before he left the room, Jake took a last look back at the sleeping form on the bed. Finn's new-found interest in adventuring both excited him for the journey ahead and filled him with trepidation. What if Finn got into big trouble playing hero while Jake wasn't around to protect him? Who would reassure the boy when he was scared? Would his parents know what to say? Would Finn understand why he couldn't come?

Uneasy, he backed out of the room, pursuing his mother's trail to the kitchen.


	6. Three Years, Nine Months part one

AN: Wow, this chapter was a bear to get through, somehow! Chelachubby asked how old Finn is in the story. Each chapter is titled for approximately how long Finn has been with Jake's family. :) In retrospect, I should have explained that earlier!

* * *

Finn raced down the hallway, past the lone bright red swinging door that marked the entrance to the kitchen. The human boy darted through the living room and past the bright blue overstuffed sofa, and with barely a pause to throw open the front door, all but flung himself out onto the porch.

"JAKE! WAIT FOR MEEEEEE!"

Jake, who was a mere ten yards away from the door, made a great show of turning and straining his senses for some sign of Finn.

"Whaaaat's thaaaaaaaaat?" he called, pretending that the front porch was half a lifetime away. "I thought I heard Finn! But I don't see him anywhereeeee!" Jake shaded his eyes and peered purposefully past the boy who was struggling to get into his socks and shoes without falling down the steps.

"Waaaaaaaaait!" Finn cried again, somewhat plaintively, as his best friend gave an exaggerated shrug and took a long, long step away from the house. "I guess I'll have to go without hiiiiiiim!" Jake commented in an over-loud voice, almost sending the frantic human into hysterics as he hopped down the steps and gave chase to Jake's slow pace but ridiculously long stride.

"Jaaaaaaaaaaake! Wait for me!"

Joshua, drawn by all the noise, peered out the front door to see the boys heading down the dirt road that led away from the house. "Where are you two going?"

The younger dog, who seemed almost incapable of noticing Finn's louder, high-pitched shrieks for attention, somehow had no trouble at all hearing his father's voice, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road.

"Oh, ah... you know.." he began, hesitantly. As Jake fumbled for words, Finn took the opportunity to catch up with him, jogging to a halt next to the babbling canine.

"Yeah, Jake! Where are we going?"

Something in Jake's frantic, churning mind snapped into place, and he found himself grinning broadly. Ignoring his father for the moment, he turned to his companion.

"Where are we going? That's the question that has been asked all throughout time. Every age, every race, every society has asked itself this very thing! Today, my young sidekick, we venture forth to a place sprung fully-formed from outside the bounds of time itself!"

Finn gasped, small hands reaching to clasp the rough hem of the assymetrical hat that encapsulated his blonde head.

Jake stole a glance at the front porch, noting the way his father was standing, the tilt of his head, and the look of curious humor on his face. Oh yeah, Jake was home free.

"You see my boy," Jake continued, thoroughly enjoying the mystique he was weaving before his captive audience, "Today we seek out that ageless wonder, which is beyond aging. That beacon, which all souls who have need are compelled to journey to..."

As the young dog trailed off in dramatic fashion, Finn leaned forward, holding his breath for the big reveal. The human boy was entranced, enthralled, unable to even speculate on what the timeless wonder that his friend was about to reveal could be.

"THE STORE!" Jake concluded in an over-loud voice, bowing low as if in response to an audience's applause for his brilliance.

"Is that all?" Finn cried, shoving his hands in his pockets and pouting. Finn liked the store, to be sure, and it was a rare treat to go there, but he'd been expecting something a bit more amazing.

Jake waved the child's unimpressed reaction aside. "Finn, you've been to the store. I've been to the store. But we've never gone together to the store!" Jake cried, striking a heroic pose and pointing down the much-travelled trail. "ONWARD!" he shouted, prompting Finn to hoot in excitement and run ahead. Jake glanced back at his father, who seemed uncertain about this little escapade. The older dog nodded at last, but called after his son.

"Remember to be back by sunset, Jake! I mean it!" After a moment's consideration, he waved the youth on. "Keep an eye on Finn, don't let him get into any trouble."

Jake grinned and gave his father a thumbs up, while stretching an eye outward to follow the little boy. "Got it, Dad! I'll keep an eye on him at all times!" Ignoring the parental groan he got in response, Jake grew exponentially in size, using his extra-long legs to cut ahead of Finn on the trail. Finn's shout of indignation startled a group of already nervous birds into flight as Jake laughed victoriously at being in the lead once more.

Joshua stood in the doorway, frowning thoughtfully after the retreating duo. Jake's birthday was in less than a month, and more and more often, his son was roaming away from home. It made sense, of course. Jake was about to strike out on his own and his natural instinct to explore and seek out a home of his own would be making itself known.

Still though.. it was an odd feeling, knowing that his boy was about to set out into the world. Jake had always been very independent, but knowing that he wouldn't be loafing around the house and helping out with chores after being reminded the second or third time was a hard idea to get used to.

And then there was Finn.

The boy had been told that Jake was moving out soon, but it seemed unlikely that the young child understood that it was going to be for longer than a few hours. In fact, Finn had become very clingy in regards to Jake. The two had become almost completely inseparable in the past few months, but whether it was because of the knowledge that Jake would soon be leaving or if it was due to something else, Joshua couldn't say.

* * *

"Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake!"

Laughing, Jake finally stopped and waited for his companion to catch up. Poor Finn was out of breath and suffering a complete lack of amusement at Jake's teasing. The human boy panted heavily, jogging to a stop next to the canine.

"No... fair..." the boy wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.

"Hey, I stopped to wait for you," Jake replied with a smirk. "Eventually."

The teenager glanced back in the direction they'd come from, attempting to ascertain if they were being watched or followed as the boy muttered abuse at him. Ignoring the child for the moment, he decided that the coast was clear.

"Yeah, whatever, I'm the biggest, fastest jerk in the world. Listen here for a minute. What would you like to do more than anything in the world?"

Finn scowled at Jake for a moment, before kicking the magical dog soundly in the left shin.

The dog gave a sharp yip of pain in response, dancing around on his uninjured leg until the stinging subsided. "Okay.. Okay," he began again, "I basically asked for that one. But that's not what I meant."

Now baffled, Finn attempted to ask "But what about the store?"

Jake reached out, grabbing the boy by the shirt and yanking him close to whisper conspiratorially in the general vicinity of Finn's ear. "Listen very very very very, very very very veeeeeeeeeeeeerry carefully, Bro." The dog paused, glancing back towards the house that was only just visible behind the thick trees. "This is TOP secret. This is so secret that the level of secrecy is almost beyond your ability to comprehend. You gotta promise me that you can keep this under wraps, you get me?"

Finn, forgetting his earlier rage at being jerked around by his favorite playmate, nodded. The boys' eyes were wide with curiosity at the intrigue yet to be revealed.

"Alright," Jake nodded. "Now, I've been scouting around, and I have discovered something amazing. Something almost magical in its' perfection. Something you are going to be astonished by." Jake's tail wagged a little at the memory.

Once again, the human boy was so enthralled by the mysterious tapestry that Jake was weaving with his words, he could barely speak. His dark eyes were shining with anticipation, and he nervously hopped up and down with barely-contained energy.

"W... W... What is it?" he finally whispered, voice hushed with reverence.

Jake straightened, posing with one finger upraised authoritatively. "I will show you. But first, I must ask you a most important question. Do you know what time it is, Finn?"

Finn blinked, knocked out of his state of gleefulness. He squinted at Jake in a quizical manner before glancing up at the pattern of shade-dappling the nearest towering pine. "Uh.. about ten fifteen, I guess."

"No," Jake replied, grabbing the boy and playfully cuffing him on the head. "It is now..." he paused, noting the way Finn was leaning in, once again almost bouncing with anticipation. "Adventure time!"

Finn gasped, and Jake grabbed him, covering the boys' mouth before the squeal of excitement threatening to erupt from the child could make itself heard.

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Do you want the whole world to know?" Jake hissed, his over-loud whisper almost as obnoxious as the shout that his companion had attempted to make.

In leiu of a vocal reply, Finn nodded his head vigorously. Pushing the dog's hand away, Finn began to babble in excitement. "This is big! This is major! We gotta tell everyone!"

"No!" Jake grabbed the boy in his arms and stretched out his legs, quickly putting a sizable distance between the duo and their home. Satisfied that they were far enough from any alert parental ears, the dog eased them both down onto a thick tree branch. "This is secret, Finn. You can't tell anyone. If Mom and Dad found out I was letting you tag along, they'd probably do something needlessly dramatic."

"What's that?" the boy asked, interested.

"Ah, you know. Like when Dad said he was going to make me live inside a bean if I didn't quit flicking them at you during dinner."

Finn huffed, full of righteous indignation. "THAT WAS YOU!"

"Of course it was me, did you really think Dad was devious enough to be tossing food at you and then acting all mad about it?"

The human considered for a moment before nodding. "Yes," he replied, serious and resolute.

Jake did a double-take at this bit of information, ultimately deciding to store it away for later. Perhaps Finn knew something that he did not? Shrugging the possibility off for the moment, he returned his attention to the matter at hand, lowering them both gently to the ground.

"I found this awesome spot downstream, there's some kind of lost artifact- maybe a boat, a couple of skeletons, and a cave!"

Finn ooooed and ahhhhed appreciatively at the information. "And we're going to check it out?"

"You'd better believe we are!" Jake pumped a fist in the air, diving off the trail and into the undergrowth beyond.

Finn ran around in an excited circle before attempting to push his way through the bushes after his best friend. After a few minutes Jake, drawn by the sounds of the small boy failing to make any headway against the plant life, raced back and encouraged the youngster to climb onto his back and hang on. Finn grinned as he clung to Jake's fuzzy, elastic form. There was no doubt about it, this was going to be the best day of his life!

The dog raced through the thick brush, dodging trees and leaping over shrubbery as they left the road far behind. Finn clung to Jake's short fur as the dog wove through the forest at breakneck speed. Jake knew the area almost as well as his father, and deftly maneuvered around every obstacle, avoiding most of them before Finn had even registered that there was something in their way. Jake didn't slow down until the land became sloped and rocky, and the trees began to fall away. At last, they came to a halt on a short bluff that overlooked the river hollow.

Unlike the wide, slow-moving stream that lazily crawled along the property behind the family home, the water here; several miles downstream, was moving at a much brisker pace along the narrow, jagged rocks. Fed by some additional small streams, the river was deep, fast, and constantly churning. Finn released his hold on Jake, running to peer over the edge at the spectacle of rushing water.

Jake joined his companion in taking in the sight of the fast-moving water. "Ground's all broken stone and junk, we're going to have to take this slow," he observed. The magic dog grabbed onto a thick tree stump, elongating and wrapping his body around the small human before beginning to lower them both over the edge towards the wet, uneven, rocky ground below. Jake carefully felt for footholds in the rough stone as they proceeded down the sheer drop.

"First floor, auto parts, household sundries and ladies' undergarments. Going down," Jake announced, his voice echoing off of the sheer cliff face and stone. Finn fearlessly looked down at the dizzying drop, marveling at the different geography. It was difficult to believe that this was the same body of water that Joshua had taught him to skip stones on. "I'm gonna spit in it!" he announced, before hocking an imperfect, dribbly bit of saliva at the rushing current below. Jake snorted, trying to concentrate on keeping them both from a very nasty fall. "Okay, you spat in the river. What's that prove?"

"I dunno," Finn replied, crossing his arms and leaning into the warm, reassuring safety of the dog's elongated side. After a few moments of silence, the small human suddenly demanded "Hey Jake, tell me a story! A story about giant pigs!"

Jake wobbled uncertainly, testing out a crumbling limestone boulder before settling his weight upon it. "Oh sure, how about the story of the two giant pigs who went looking for treasure, and the littler pig kept pestering the bigger pig, and they fell to their wet, messy deaths? You like that one?"

The boy rolled his eyes at Jake's sarcastic tone. "Booooo... that's a lame story. And I'm not that much littler than you!"

Ignoring Finn's (correct) assertion, the dog stretched his neck out, clinging to the cliff face as he took a better look at the ground below. "Ah man, finally. I thought we were never gonna reach solid ground." A warped, bouncy hop was all it took, and the duo was perched on what Jake hoped was stable rock along the sloping, uneven riverbank.

Not releasing his death grip on the little boy, Jake scrutinized the cliff face. Had one not been looking for it, it would have been easy not to notice the particularly white, smooth stone that on closer inspection proved to be a skull, possibly human.. maybe early mutant in origin. With a victorious cry, Jake pointed at a dark, narrow recess above the bone. Broken stone was jumbled over the cave entrance, and clinging foliage marked the sheer wall, making the opening easy to miss. "Ya see that? The object of our most righteous quest doth beckon us from hither!"

Finn, startled out of his excitement, craned his head around to stare incredulously at his best friend. "Why are you talking like that?" Jake shrugged. "It's epic adventurer speak. From ye olden days, and stuff." Satisfied with the explanation, Finn attempted to squirm loose from Jake's grasp.

"Whoa whoa whoa! You just settle for a minute," the magic dog complained. "There's kind of a trick to getting in there, and the light's not so great. Better stay put until the senior adventurer gives the okay." Pointing grandly to himself, Jake cautiously edged towards the shadowy break in the stone. It was evident that an ancient rock slide had been responsible for nearly concealing the cave, and the dog was hesitant in his approach to the recess. Ignoring Finn's energetic squirming, Jake leaned over the ancient remains and eased his head and shoulders past the precarious-looking boulders and looked inside.

Truth be known, he was starting to have second and even third thoughts about this whole idea. He'd thought that exploring the more stable areas of the cave would be a grand outing before he left home. Just in case Finn had been reclaimed and was gone when the teen came back to visit, he'd wanted to do something so righteously crazy, so unspeakably fun, that they'd always remember the experience. But Finn was proving to be less the compliant sidekick that Jake had imagined, and more of a ballistic missile made of gelatin, wiggling and attempting to dart everywhere all at once.

The problem, the dog realized, was that Finn had no clue whatsoever as to what an appropriate danger response was. Instead of running from something that seemed off or strange, or even proceeding cautiously; Finn tended to run full tilt at it to investigate.

Now faced with the reality of the unstable area and the hyperactive human, Jake was sure that this had been a bad idea. He'd barely explored the unstable cavern. Barely had he entered to investigate the mysterious object within it himself, and there was no way Finn would be content with just staring wistfully from a distance... was there?

"Okay, we're just going to look, alright? No touching, no prodding, just looking. Okay, Finn?"

To his surprise and dread, Finn was silent.

"Aw no.."

Jake made a grab for the boy as Finn darted past him into the murky, dimly lit cave.

"Where is it? Where? Where? I can't see anything in here, Jake! What's.. WHOA!"

Jake hurried to follow, impatiently reaching up to manually adjust his vision as a series of muffled sounds like a small boy running across stone and metal with complete disrespect for the age and fragility of either one reached the canine's sensitive ears. "Finn, where's you go? You know you're supposed to stick close in a strange place!" The disorientation of the sudden light change was wreaking havoc with the dog's recollection of the poorly seen interior, and he stumbled over the broken ground and the scattered skeletal remains. Jake fell, rolling ungracefully for some distance down the sloping cave floor and coming to rest under something large that blotted out most of the dim light.

A whitish blob appeared to the side of his field of vision, from beneath what Jake at first thought to be a large, sloping rock. As he drew closer, it became apparent that Finn was actually staring at him through a hole in what might have been an old, oddly designed boat. No.. he decided, it wasn't a hole at all! Instead it seemed to be a thick glass bubble window on the strange trapped antique craft. The boy was excitedly babbling, his voice echoing strangely in the small space. Jake sucked in his breath, realizing that the situation was rapidly spiraling out of his control.

"Hey Jake! You gotta see this! I thought maybe it was a pirate ship, but it's not like the pirate ships in the books at all! It's all metal and small in here! And there's a DEAD GUY wearing goggles!" Finn pointed, bouncily, at a slumped mass of cloth and aged bones behind the control panel. "I don't think he's a pirate, though! Pirates are supposed to have eye patches, aren't they?"

Cautiously, Jake edged towards the talkative youngster and the precarious craft. "Yeah, yeah... most pirates have eye patches. You've seen my collection, right? Hey, I've got an idea, let's go back home and look at my eye patch collection! That's more fun than stumbling around in the dark, right?" Jake stretched his arms out towards the ship, feeling for an entrance as the confused child stared at him, as though wondering where the dog's sense of awesome had gone. The dog held his breath, feeling for some sort of access to the interior of the tiny ship and hoped that he could grab Finn before something not-good happened.

Jake knew better, though.

Sure enough, Finn turned back towards the interior of the small vessel, shouting boistrously about wanting to show Jake something. The dog, sensing some horrible impending doom, leapt desperately onto the fragile hull, reaching for the round pressure-resistant entrance he'd located. With a yip of surprise, he dodged a periscope, which rose abruptly out of the battered, rusted hull. Jake sucked in a breath. This had officially stopped being fun. This wasn't just an old boat, it was a submarine! A tiny, two person submarine, probably dating back from back before the war!

"Finn, get out here right now! This is important! Don't touch anything, this thing could be armed!"

Inside the metal hull, Finn yanked on something that was stuck to the remains of the sub's former captain. With a last, solid jerk, the object came free, sending the skeleton smacking into the control panel. As if in response to Jake's words, a siren began to hoot and a small torpedo shot out of the ship. The projectile burst across the small, eroded cavern and struck the jumbled stone that covered the entrance to the cave.

The small craft lurched as the cavern and the surrounding bluff began to partially collapse. Jake flung himself through the small portal, slamming the hatch shut. The dog grabbed ahold of the startled human and grew as large as he safely could in the small space, surrounding the child in an attempt to cushion the blows the vessel was sustaining from the falling rock and rushing water. The ground suddenly seemed to drop out from under their tiny craft, and Jake reflexively swore as the dim surface light vanished.

The heavily eroded caves had swallowed the two would-be adventurers whole.


	7. Three Years, Nine Months part two

Cartoons » Adventure Time with Finn and Jake » The Care and Feeding of Humans

Author: Paradoxal Reality

Rated: K - English - General/Family - Reviews: 65 - Published: 07-12-10 - Updated: 11-07-11 id:6136416

AN: Thanks for being patient during the long wait for this chapter, everyone! By the way, the chapter titles count off the amount of time that Finn has spent with Jake's family.

"I think I'm dead. Or maybe just blind." Jake's voice echoed oddly, as if he was in some otherworldly ream beyond the reach of mortal existance. Somewhere, the sound of water drizzling over rough stone burbled.

"Maybe I'm blind and dead," the dog mused, uncertain if that was a possibility. "I didn't think that they went together, but I didn't think heaven would be so hard and metallic."

The magic dog felt around, pausing when his fingers grazed something round. "What's this? Finn, is that you?" The round object came free in his hands, and a more thorough examination of the thing made him drop it in surprise. "A skull? Oh no! This isn't heaven! This is the other place!"

A blinding light flared into existance before him, and Jake flung his arms up, willing them to form a shield against whatever this new threat was.

"What are you? Are you the Ageless One? Are you going to judge me for my faults and swallow my soul?" The teenager's voice broke with terror as his imagination threw itself into overtime.

"Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake.."

A voice called out to him from the blinding light, shocking the dog.

"What is it, All-Powerful Being? What do you want of this wretched, humble, unbelievably handsome dog, taken in his prime?"

"Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaake... you're a booger braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiin," the voice replied, bursting into giggles. Jake peered from behind his makeshift shield as Finn lowered the flashlight he'd found so that it wasn't pointing almost directly into the dog's eyes.

"You shoulda seen your face," the boy cackled, spinning around in a circle and pointing at his friend. "You were all like 'Aghhhh!', and I'm all like 'woooooooooOOOoooo' with my spooky voice!"

Jake gritted his teeth and counted backwards from twenty, pushing past the boy and forcing open the jammed hatch of the submarine. Finn trailed behind him as he exited the small craft, still giggling and chattering as he swung the beam of the light this way and that, revealing forboding stone and murky water all around them. He noted that they'd landed in a shallow underground lake, apparently fed by runoff from the river above. The stone walls were carved out smoothly into a large central chamber, and he took note of a series of hollowed-out tunnels that had apparently been formed by centuries of erosion by the passage of time and a lot of moving water as well as the large fissures that the movement of the earth had fractured into being.

"That was so awesome! Can we do it again? Huh? It was all whoosh and we were all whoa and.. and... and.."

"SHUT IT!"

Finn was silenced as an unusually stressed-out Jake rounded on him, grabbing the flashlight and beginning a more thorough examination of their surroundings. Under his breath, the teenager fumed about the human child, who didn't even have the decency to be afraid of the dark.

"Can we do it again?" Jake repeated, scoffing at the notion. "Maybe you didn't notice, but we're probably a jillion miles underground. We sure can't get back out the way we came in, and I don't know how we're going to find another way out, or even if we can." Behind the dog, Finn scowled in the barest bit of comprehension. The dog sniffed cautiously at the air coming from the nearest openings in the stone, searching out the scent of fresh air.

"But, we got in, why wouldn't we be able to get out?"

Jake turned, pointing the flashlight up at the ceiling, which was much closer to them than he was personally comfortable with. Broken stone hung over them at an odd angle in exactly the way that several thousand pounds of rock should not. A thin trickle of water threaded its way through the boulders, falling to disturb the pale, eyeless creatures that swam in the underground stream. Jake shivered, feeling every hair on his body stand on end as one of the bizarre cetaceans slid a few of its many pseudopods up out of the water, reaching towards the dribbling flow of liquid.

Unable to grasp the thin fingers of water raining down from the ceiling, the pale extensions wove about in confusion. A mouth-like structure opened and closed at the end of one, and Jake abruptly turned away. Certain that he'd be seeing the horrible thing again in future nightmares, the canine turned his attention to his young companion.

"Listen dude, this is serious. We don't know where we are."

Finn looked a bit affronted at the dire assessment of their situation. "Of course not, that's why it's an... ADVENTURE!" The boy leapt up, striking a heroic pose atop the submarine's hull. The small craft rocked slightly, and the telltale grinding sound of metal on stone made Jake jump. The much-battered vessel was probably the only thing keeping the ceiling from crushing them. A few small pebbles spilled out of the tangle of boulders over their heads, plopping down into the water below with reckless abandon.

Taking a deep breath, Jake carefully backed into the freshest-smelling crevasse that led away from their stone prison and reached an elongated arm out, nabbing the youngster from his dangerous position. When they didn't instantly die, the dog relaxed a little, setting Finn on the uneven ground once more and leading him to the small passageway. The farther they got from the underground lake and the reach of its denizens, the better he'd feel.

Water splashed underfoot as they traveled, and Jake hoped that meant that the tunnel was going to lead out somewhere. The boy beside him was inclined to hum and kick his feet at the liquid as they walked; and as long as he stuck close, Jake was fine with letting him work off some energy. The kid had to wear out eventually or at least change to a different song. Preferably one that did have an end, and didn't go on and on- Aw crap, now it was stuck in his head.

As the duo walked, he wished he could use his powers to negotiate the tight space more quickly. If he was honest with himself, he was doing well just to stay upright on the rough, wet ground.

Jake wasn't sure how long they'd been walking, or how far they'd gotten, or even if they were headed in the same direction anymore. The passage was nearly devoid of anything one might call a landmark, and his mind was beginning to play tricks on him. The only things he was certain of were that he could still smell the fresh, sweet surface air that whispered teasingly down the narrow, cracked rock corridor and that Finn was going to drive him absolutely bananas. The boys' humming echoed and reverberated in the small tunnel, making Jake feel like his head was full of singing cicadas. With a sigh, he decided it was time to level with the boy. If nothing else, it might enable him to hear himself think for a few precious minutes.

"Okay bud, listen up. I gotta tell you something."

Finn paused beside him, staring at Jake quizzically. The droning echo of the child's humming bounced rhythmically around the duo for a few moments before fading back through the passageways.

"Listen man, I'm sorry I yelled back there. But I need you to understand something. This is no longer fun adventuring. This is potentially life and death."

Finn's eyes positively shimmered with excitement in the dim light. "You mean it?" he asked, as though he'd been promised some outlandishly extravagant present.

"Finn, we could actually die down here."

The look of starry-eyed anticipation did not fade from Finn's face. It was the last thing that Jake saw as the ancient flashlight flickered and died.

"Oh crap."

"This is SO cool!"

Jake fumbled with the device, but it refused to illuminate their surroundings again. The dog tossed the useless device aside with a resigned sigh. It clattered off of the stone wall and skidded to a wet halt behind them. At least if he tripped over it in the future, he'd know they were going in circles. Returning his attention to the matter at hand, Jake coughed softly for Finn's attention. "Alright... we're gonna have to be really careful, but we can still get outta here. We'll follow my nose right back out to daylight. Gimme your hand."

The canine flailed both hands around in the dark for a few moments before he felt the reassuring pressure of fingers grasping his own. He was a bit surprised and humbled when he felt both of his hands being clasped. Maybe Finn was actually scared after all? With a flash of pride and affection, he decided that he was going to do whatever it took to get them both out of this mess. Finn trusted him. Finn depended on him.

"C'mon Finn," he proclaimed, stretching out his ears to feel the stone walls around him as he drew the presumably fearful child along at a brisk walk towards what he dearly hoped was freedom. "Let's go home!"

Finn fumbled in the darkness, attempting valiantly to keep up with his heroic idol. "Wait, Jake! Jake?"

Margaret found her husband standing in the front yard, frowning at the dirt path that led away from their home as though it was offending him, somehow.

"They're not back yet?" she asked, getting a firm head shake in the negative from her spouse. "I wonder what could be keeping them? It's getting late." Margaret worried about the boys, but felt a small flash of pride as she watched her husband. Joshua might be a bit on the lazy side, and even a bit impish at times, but when something upset him he became an entirely different person. And that person was glaring purposefully into the distance with the look in his eye that made him, in her mind, look a bit heroic.

"I'm going after them," Joshua announced in a no-nonsense tone, straightening the fedora on his head. His wife caught his arm firmly, and fell into step beside him. "No, WE are going after them," she corrected. "I left a note on the table in case they manage to sneak past us, and two of us can search much more quickly than one."

Joshua blinked, a little taken aback by her fiery determination. "You think of everything, don't you, dear?"

Margaret adjusted her sunhat primly and nodded. "That's why you married me, darling."

The twosome quickly put their noses to the ground and began to trace the path the two boys had taken.

Jake practically cried with relief as the tunnel lightened around him in the colors of late evening. The exit had to be almost within grasp! The deathly silence of the cave, broken only by the sound of footfalls and the scattering of loose stone since they'd left the shallow, trickling stream of water behind was beginning to strain his senses. A ways back, the liquid had departed, falling through a jagged series of large cracks in the porous cave floor. He couldn't say that he missed it. He'd felt certain that being on a dry surface meant heading "up", and he was relieved that he'd been correct; both for his sake, and that of the uncharacteristically silent youngster behind him. Jake's tail wagged as the pervasive silence began to fade away to the muffled sounds of life outside.

Their journey had become more difficult in the past few hours. The walls and floor had become much more jagged and unpredictable. Erosion had little to do with the passage he was negotiating, the unstable ground had forced this space into being some time in the ancient past. The featureless blackness was melting away in the faint light. High time, too, his ears were being worn raw by the prolonged searching contact with the rough walls of the small tunnel.

"We're almost there," he called with delight to his silent companion. "We've just about made it, Finn!" When the boy still said nothing, Jake frowned. He looked back into the dimly lit space behind him, and tripped on an unexpected rock and his own shock. When the dog finally tumbled to a stop, he stared in disbelief at his hands. Instead of grabbing onto the human child's small, pinkish hands, somehow Jake had managed to grab onto his own. In the darkness, he had somehow been unable to tell what his own limbs were doing.

"Then that means... oh no.. FINN!" For a moment, Jake looked back at the inviting tendrils of sunlight beckoning him in the distance. He could always go for help, right? He could just take a quick breath of fresh air and come back renewed for the task of fetching Finn... couldn't he? A mournful, trembling cry from some distance back down the narrow, inclined passage stabbed directly into the young dog's heart. He leaped up onto all fours and charged back down the tunnel, fresh air and sunshine forgotten as he stumbled and tripped in the darkness. "Hang on, Finn... I'm coming back for you!" He abruptly tripped and fell, somersaulting back down the way he'd come.

As Jake rolled back to the rescue, several miles back down inside the Earth, Finn sat in the dark. The boy had hummed to himself again at first, but eventually even that had failed to keep his spirits up. He was alone. Utterly, and completely alone. The boy hugged his knees to his chest as he sat on the sole dry spot he'd found atop a flat rock. He thought he was frowning. He was almost sure he was.

He wasn't crying, though. Only little helpless babies cried. He was a big, fearless adventurer. He repeated it to himself like a magical incantation.

He was a big, fearless adventurer.

He was a big, fearless adventurer.

Finn whimpered, burying his face in his arms and shivering. He WAS a big, fearless adventurer, darn it. He was. He was. He was almost four. He wasn't a baby. He wasn't really afraid, he was just worried because Jake had gotten lost. Jake wasn't going to leave him down here forever. Jake would come back. Jake HAD to come back.

Didn't he?

Unbidden, a frayed scrap of memory played back in the youngster's mind. A wash of red filled the vision of his mind's eye, and half-remembered shouts that he couldn't understand echoed in his head. He instinctively flinched back from the recollection, even as it faded into the more clearly-recalled but no less painful one of suddenly being utterly alone in the forest and stuck to a leaf. The few creatures who passed him ignored him, or favored him with contemptuous glares.

At least then there had been the warm sunlight, and fresh air. Here there was no sound but the mocking echoes of his own fearful whimpering. It was cold, and clammy, and damp. The air smelled stale and ancient, and the pervasive darkness was making him acutely aware of how small and alone he really was.

Finn shivered again, and willed himself to remember being found by Jake's parents, and being rescued. The first hug he could remember. Hot tears sprang from the boy's eyes and he began to wail aloud.

"I WANNA GO HOOOOOOME!" he howled, no longer caring if he looked like a brave adventurer or a lost little boy with a snotty nose who was scared to death. Admitting he was frightened simply frightened him more, and in a panic, he pushed himself to his feet and began stumbling through the wet pitch darkness alone. He WAS going in the direction Jake had gone, wasn't he? He wasn't sure, he didn't know if he could be sure. He left the broken flashlight far behind, forgotten.

Finn began to hyperventilate as he sloshed through the passage, occasionally hitting his head on an outcropping of rock he couldn't see, or slipping and falling when the wet stone failed to give him proper traction. All at once, he tripped and fell to a sobbing, soaked halt as the ground rebelled against him and he slipped and fell over some loose pebbles and broken limestone. The boy laid on the rough rock and sobbed, now more from the pain in his ankle where he'd twisted it and the matching ache in his palms where he'd cut them trying to catch himself. Who knew if there was even any solid ground around him anymore? He could hear water bubbling and draining away below him, but where was it going? He knew he could be inches away from a headlong plummet to his death.

The tiny human clutched his stinging hands to his face and cried. He was still lying there when a thoroughly scuffed-up Jake found him, an hour or so of eternity later. Jake carefully approached, mindful of where the floor felt solid and the places where it wobbled loosely when he put his weight on it. Calling to the boy had no effect, and he only felt the smallest amount of relief when the child readily clung to him upon being gently picked up.

"Shhhhh," Jake whispered insistently, wrapping Finn in his torn ears and pulling the inconsolable figure securely onto his back. "Jaker's here, buddy. Everything's gonna be okay. I found the way out and everything." Finn didn't respond, other than burying his face in the magic dog's dusty fur. His wails, now only somewhat muted, were still audible.

The journey back up the narrow crevasse in the earth was passed thus, with Jake feeling his way on all fours, whispering reassurances to the boy which seemed to be ignored. The sun had almost set when Jake put his nose to the tiny crack that separated him and his whimpering companion from the outside world. The dog began to carefully dig, trying to move quickly, but wary of disturbing the ground too much. A landslide at this point might very well kill them both, otherwise he'd be punching straight through, giant fist-style. All the while, Finn continued to sniffle and sob, a depressing soundtrack to what was already fearful work.

Jake pushed onward as the sun set, exhausted but determined. Just a little ways further, he urged himself. A little ways further and they would be out. A shadow fell across the tiny corridor of light that he was pursuing, and suddenly there were diggers on the other side of the intended escape route. Jake, Finn still securely on his back, was seized by the wrists and yanked none too gently from the underground purgatory he'd spent more than half the day in.

The sight of his parents relieved the teenager, and he released Finn from the death grip his ears had been keeping on the boy. Margaret grabbed them both in a fierce hug, and began nuzzling and licking them both on the face, which finally calmed Finn down enough that he noticed that he was safe. Jake sighed, as the revelation brought about weak, hiccuping cries of relief from the human boy.

Finn clung desperately to Margaret, and it was at the exact moment that he noticed this that Jake caught sight of his mother's face. Her eyes were swollen and her whole face was dripping wet with tears. Her second-best sunhat sat, dirty and disheveled on her head. She was trembling with what was obviously the most potent mix of love, relief, and blood-boiling rage that Jake had ever witnessed her in. The teen's gaze snapped to his father as Joshua seized Jake's shoulder and in something that didn't sound like a completely rational tone of voice said "Jake, son, I am going to murder you to death if you iever/i pull a stunt like this again."

"We thought you were both DEAD!" Margaret snarled, the venom and accusation in the words not at all dimmed by the tight hug she was nearly suffocating him with. "We followed your trail to the cliff, nearly KILLED ourselves trying to climb down and find you in the rubble that was all over the place, and we couldn't find a trace of either of you! We've been calling you two and digging at the loose rock for hours! We only found you because we thought your- your b-bodies might have been washed downstream and heard Finn's crying!"

"I'm sorry, Ma.." Jake whined, now clinging to her with a grip to rival Finn's. "I just wanted to show Finn this cool little cave," Even to his own bloodied ears, the reasoning sounded flimsy. Ducking his head in a submissive penance, he added "I didn't think anything would happen."

"Jacob T. Dog, you NEVER think!" His mother cried, "You never, never think about what could happen. You just... " Margaret released him for a moment to flail helplessly with her free hand. "You just... Oh, I can't even talk about it. Let's go home. Great Cosmic Owl, I need a warm bath and a cup of tea."

The teen shrank back from the accusation and the dreaded iuse of the full name/i. His father's scowl gave him one more thing to feel anxious about as the physically and emotionally exhausted group scrambled awkwardly up the weedy, overgrown hillside. Joshua's nose unerringly pointed the way back toward the comfort and safety of home as dusk faded to night. No one spoke for the rest of the journey back. Finn fell asleep in Margaret's protective embrace, and not even the gentle bath he received before being tucked extra-securely into bed awoke him.

Jake slumped on the front porch, miserable. He didn't look up when his father joined him. It might be better, the younger dog thought, if his father saw fit to lecture him like his mother had. Instead, Joshua was giving all appearances of ignoring him, aside from sending a disapproving glare his way. "I'm.. sorry.." he attempted, wanting out of the tense silence as badly as he'd wanted out of that accursed death trap of a cave. Joshua's eyes narrowed, and he favored his son with a glare as potent as the one Jake had been on the bad end of after the incident that had happened when he was a pup when he and Jermaine blew up the kitchen the second time. Come to think of it, wasn't that why his brother had moved out early?

Jake hated that look. It took a lot to get his father angry, but when it happened, it was a terrifying sight. Just as bad was the gravely intoned "I'm very disappointed in you, son." that followed. "I'm sorry," Jake repeated. "So am I, Jake. You are not to take Finn anywhere alone from now on."

Jake nodded, not happy but understanding.

Jake's eighteenth birthday was a somber affair. Two weeks had passed since the accident in the cave, and only Finn seemed to have forgiven Jake for his part in the incident. The boy frequently reacted to reminders that he wasn't allowed to go anywhere with Jake unsupervised with puzzled silence, and reminded anyone who'd listen that he was almost four years old and was big enough to take care of himself, followed by a clumsy demonstration of what he'd do to any monster who tried to sneak up on him.

The family stood in the yard, awkwardly saying goodbye. Joshua shook Jake's hand and offered him some last minute advice that seemed lackadaisical at best. The only part that readily made any sense to the younger dog was the entreaty to "Never eat raspberries". Margaret fussed over how little he'd packed and dabbed daintily at her eyes with a tissue. Finn demanded over and over to know why he couldn't go too.

At last, it was time to go. Jake gave his family his best devil-may-care grin and started down the trail that led from the house. The changing seasons had put a warm breath in the air and he declared a desire to see from whence it came. As he stepped past his mother's flowerbeds, a small voice called out to him. Finn ran up and flung his arms around his favorite playmate.

"You'll come back, won't you?" the boy pleaded, eyes wet with unshed tears.

"You'll still be here if I do, right?" was the only answer that Jake could give. The two stood in silence for a moment, neither able to promise anything. Finally, Jake relented. "I'll do my best to be back this time next year, okay? I'll bring you back something special, if I can." Finn nodded, stepping back. "I'll try to be here. I'm gonna miss you, Jaker."

Jake sighed, adjusting the straps on the green backpack that held the possessions he was trusting to see him through the first steps in striking out on his own. "I'll miss you too. But for now, I gotta go. I'm trusting you to take care of Mom and Dad while I'm gone, though." Finn nodded, face serious and grave, holding a hand across his chest in a pose Jake thought the boy must have seen in one of his old books of adventure stories. "I do so sweareth," Finn proclaimed.

The dog grinned, and reached into his pack. After a moment of rummaging around, he produced a plain brown paper bag. "I hadst almost forgottest. For thine own birthday, brave squire. Be thou honorable enough to open it on the appointed day and not a moment sooner." Finn broke character to give Jake one last hug, then ran back to where Joshua and Margaret were waiting, clinging to the paper bag with a fervent energy that made Jake doubt the child could wait the scant few weeks until his own birthday to open it. Shouldering his backpack, he sat out into the world.

Behind him, Finn waved as Jake turned back to the trail and continued until the now-adult dog was long out of sight.


	8. Three Years, Eleven Months

AN: Sorry for the long break! This chapter's a little short, but the next one will be longer.

* * *

Joshua considered the sight before him, uncertain. His wife was carefully undoing several lines of knitting, re-stitching them, and then taking the lines out once more.

"Should I ask?" he finally ventured.

"Oooooh, I can't seem to pay attention to what I'm doing," Margaret muttered, distracted. "My concentration's all shot to pieces. I may as well quit for the day." So saying, she set the bundle of yarn aside with demonstrative contempt.

"It's strange, isn't it? We've almost got the place to ourselves again," Joshua smiled, earning a reflexive smirk from his wife. Taking it as an invitation, he settled next to her on the off-kilter blue sofa and snaked an arm around her.

"Joshua!" Margaret feigned outrage, swatting his hand away as though it offended her by presuming to touch her shoulder. A fast-paced round of 'gotcha last' followed, with each of the duo attempting to poke or prod the other without being jabbed back in retaliation. At last, the twosome collapsed in a pile of giggles.

"We haven't done that in ages," Joshua cackled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Why is that?"

"That's because you're such a poor loser," Margaret retorted, victory practically oozing from every word.

"Are you sure it's not because you're a poor winner?" Joshua drawled as he elbowed her in the ribs. He was rather enjoying the look of mild annoyance that shimmered for a moment in his wife's eyes.

"Quite sure," she sniffed, pushing him away and standing. "I should check on Finn."

"I just looked in on him," Joshua interjected, grabbing Margaret's hand and pulling her back to her still-warm seat. "He's moping around a bit and looking through one of Jake's picture books."

"I worry about him," Margaret sighed, picking her knitting back up and scrutinizing her work. "He's such a helpless little thing, I'm afraid to let him go off alone. And without Jake here..."

"He's gotten so listless." her husband finished the thought with a nod. The normally hyperactive four year old had become solumn and withdrawn since Jake had moved out. His bouts of playful antics had become more rare as Margaret insistantly corralled him in earshot, and he'd taken to staring off into the distance and sighing.

Every day seemed to bring a new revelation about the particular methods and rituals that the boys had observed unbeknownst to either of the two adults. Margaret found her attempts at reading the stories that so fascinated the boy peppered with reminders that Jake would "do the voices", and make sound effects. Joshua found himself rebuffed by reminders that Jake invented his own games for the duo to play when he tried to engage the child in a spirited round of tug of war.

In all honesty, both parents found themselves learning more about Jake now that he was gone than they'd known when the independent-minded young dog had still lived at home.

"Maybe I should check on Finn," Margaret repeated, setting her knitting aside and getting up again. This time, Joshua let her go. When you didn't know what else to do, repeating the same ineffective action was as good a thing to do as any.

Finn laid on his stomach, staring into the vivid color image he'd found in one of Jake's adventure books. He stared past the figures battling heroically in the foreground, and into the distant horizon of a mystical world he wished he could be a part of.

Somewhere out there, beyond the familiar trees and dusty trails of home, the boy felt certain that Jake was adventuring through worlds as fascinating as anything that was in the brittle old books. Unable to move downwind of the adults without inciting a panic, the human child had begun trying to will himself into the illustrations of the old volumes. He was sure that if he looked hard enough, he'd see one of the heroic figures on the page smile or wink at him, or the villians might smirk dangerously. He did his best to skip past the pages that were devoid of good guys, just in case one of the scary pictures chose to come to life while unguarded.

Finn picked up the careworn book with his current favorite pictures in it, and turned towards the door. He wasn't surprised to see Margaret poking her head in to check on him, and the sigh he thought he suppressed at the familiar sight managed to escape instead. Margaret's ears flicked at the sound, and she felt a flash of embarrassment. They couldn't keep the boy penned up like an exotic pet. It just wasn't right.

"Finn hon? I thought you might like to go outside."

When the boy didn't respond, she continued. "Alone, that is. I know we've been a bit overprotective of you lately, and maybe we've overreacted, but we were scared for you and Jake, Little Bit."

The boy sat the heavy book aside, head cocked in the manner of a curious pup.

Margaret held her arms out to the child, and he readily responded to the unspoken invitation to a warm hug. "We're going to try and do better, Little Bit. But you've got to help us do it. I want you to stay in shouting distance of the house, and if we call you'd better come in, okay?"

Finn buried his face in the lady's warm, soft fur and nodded vigorously before bursting away from her in a surge of energy. "Thanks Ma'am!" he cried, running through the house and throwing open the back door.

Joshua was comfortably half-asleep when Finn thundered through the living room and blazed out through the kitchen, and startled badly at the sudden noise. "Is the house on fire?" he wondered aloud, sniffing the air as his wife appeared and began sorting through the closet behind him. "Nothing so dramatic, I just decided to give Finn a little extra leash is all. You don't mind if the poor dear gets some time away from constant supervision, do you dearest?"

Joshua grinned and slipped up behind his wife, intending to grab her in a fond hug. "I could stand a little private time for us, truth be told, m'dearest. I'll just tie the boy in the yard, and..."

Margaret pushed him away, ignoring his teasings. She'd found the object of her search and needed to get it delivered. "I'll tie you in the yard in a moment," she advised the male, who looked astonished at her audacity.

"A tough galoot like me? Sweetie, you wouldn't stand a chance!"

Margaret laughed under her breath as she ventured to the back door, still gaping open from where Finn the human typhoon had run through. "Fiiinn!" she called out before spotting him and the off-kilter white hat on his head at the end of the yard. The boy looked up as she approached, seeming resigned that his moment of freedom was over.

"You wanted me to hide this from you, remember? I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, but I thought you might like to open it." So saying, the lady handed off the plain brown paper bag that had been entrusted to her several weeks before.

Finn accepted the object and beamed at her before setting it down beside the dancing bug he was watching. "I'll open it later," he replied, and laid back down in the grass as the lady retreated back into the house.

The young human stretched out on his stomach, enjoying the warm summer sunshine and the novel new acquaintance he'd made. His eyes darted to the mysterious bag which Jake had left him, and he smiled broadly. He wouldst waiteth for tomorrow, he reminded himself. It was looking like it would be a great birthday after all. With a content sigh, he decided to enjoy every moment of independence he had before the inevitable call to come in for dinner.


	9. Four Years, part one

AN: Wow, that was a long hiatus! Well, let's get started again!

* * *

Warmth.

Comfort.

Security.

A gentle voice assuring him that all would be okay.

A rumbling.

Screams.

Shaking.

Falling.

A high-pitched keening sound that hurt his small ears.

A familiar voice, screaming.

Red.

Something that reminded him of knives.

Red.

The water, rising.

A desperate cry, falling away into the roaring background noise of screams and things tearing, falling, falling on him, and suddenly he screamed!

Finn sat bolt upright in his bed, gasping for breath as the nightmare faded into nothing but a dim recollection of warmth and security being stolen away. The boy laid in his new sleeping bag, panting a little as he stared at the comforting familiar sight of Jake's bunk above him. He wished Jake was up there. If he was, he'd be poking his head over the edge of the bunk, asking what was wrong. Jake always knew exactly the right thing to say to scare the last cobwebs of the nightmare away.

He'd had plenty of practice with it, after all.

"Finn? Are you going to get up? We have company!" Margaret's voice called from the front of the house. Finn reached up to touch his hat. He sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes and willing the last shadowy remnants of the nightmare to be gone. When he opened them, he smiled confidently, leaping out of bed and diving for his clothing bin. The smell wafting through the house told him plainly who the mystery guest was.

* * *

"Well just look at you! You're so grown up!" Tree Trunks enthused, straining to reach up and pat the top of Finn's head with her trunk. "Pretty soon I won't be able to do this anymore!"

Finn nodded, solumnly informing her that he'd had a birthday the previous week, and that he was now a very grown up, official five years old. That was the official estimate, spoken by the masters of the household, and so it absolutely must be true. So saying, he made himself walk a very dignified, grown-up walk back to his room, returning with a small white item clutched in his hands.

Finn reverently removed his old, battered, lopsided hat before laying it in the box of scrap fabrics that Margaret was still patiently holding open for him. Back rigid with ceremonial import, he turned and unfolded the item that had been hidden in the plain brown paper bag that Jake had left for him. The new hat, he noted with awe, was perfect.

Margaret stifled a giggle as all traces of formality were erased from the small human boy's features. Finn was rapidly running back and forth between the three adults, pointing out every feature of his new headwear.

She had to admit, Jake had done an amazing job. Other than the size difference, it was impossible to tell the difference between this new hat and the one she and Joshua had found the boy in. She waved fondly as the child darted for the door.

"Land sakes, Margie, what was all that about?"

Margaret laughed, closing up the scrap fabric box and returning it to its' spot in the closet. "Finn takes his headwear very seriously," she explained. "Jake left the latest hat as a birthday present before he left. He's been waiting for a special occasion to make the switch over to the new one, so I guess today was the day!"

Tree Trunks chuckled in response. "I'm honored! He's finally started to perk up a bit, hasn't he? I know that the last time I was here, he was just layin' around like a big ol' tree slug. I thought he was sick!"

Joshua, mindful of the gush of "wimmin-talk" that he sensed coming on the horizon, took up his plate of dessert and excused himself to the living room. Perhaps today would be the day that he finally got around to organizing his study, just as soon as the distraction of apple pie was gone. Yeah, right...

The little green elephant cut another piece of pie as Margaret returned to the table and pulled out one of the mis-matched chairs. "The poor dear, I'm afraid we've been suffocating him a bit with over-protectiveness ever since the incident in the gulley. I hoped that we'd be able to cheer him up a bit, since Jake's gone, but well.."

"Backfired a bit?"

"Like Joshua's father on chili night," Margaret sighed. The little elephant choked a bit at the comment.

"Oh MY, Margie!"

Margaret giggled self-consciously. "I'm sorry, all this time around the boys is getting to me a little!"

The lady sobered a little as she looked towards the screen door that Finn had practically blown off its' hinges in his haste to get outside. "The poor boy, he really needs to roam a bit. I just wish there was a way that he could have a little adventure without the risk of danger."

Tree Trunks smiled suddenly. "I have an idea. And I must say that I'm surprised that you didn't think of it yourself."

* * *

Finn rode along in the little red wagon as he was towed behind Joshua and Margaret. He wasn't familiar with this stretch of road, which wound away past the familiar landmarks like the Store and out into an expanse of the forest that is utterly alien. The two adults were fussing over whether they were going the right way or not, and Finn tuned them out with a child's expertise.

Instead of listening to the ongoing debate about asking for directions, he scanned the trees around them. They were taller here than back home, he decided, and there were more of the pale-barked ones with their huge, broad leaves that made the best fall leaf piles. With little other recourse, he watched the sunlight filtering through the leaves. The glowing green sheen of the forest canopy was interrupted less and less frequently by the bright, stinging bursts of pure sunshine as the party progressed, and Finn fancied that it wasn't the sun providing the illumination but brilliantly glowing leaves that lit their way as the road became narrower and less travelled. A thin fuzz of grass and clover had inched into the way, turning their route into a gentle path.

Birds sang in the trees, and a few dragonflies hissed and growled quietly at each other in the lush grasses by the side of the road. The gentle rocking clatter of the wagon and the idyllic view were such that before he knew it, Finn had fallen into a light doze.

"We're here!" Margaret's cheerful voice cried, startling the boy into opening his eyes and discovering half the day was gone. Finn sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his face with the back of his hand. "Whoa..." he breathed as he caught sight of their destination. It was the biggest building he had ever seen. It seemed to go on forever, stretching into the the sky and across the ground like a massive, almost featureless box.

The ground was strange under their feet, he noticed as he stepped out of the wagon. It was dark, and smooth. There were holes punched into it here and there, but they were clearly signs of damage. The area appeared to be a graveyard for some sort of great metallic insects whose innards had long since dried up and blown away. The boy pushed himself upright, bounding out of the wagon and running to investigate one of the ancient corpses.

"Where are we?" Finn asked in a hushed whisper.

Margaret smiled broadly. "The mall!" she replied, embuing the name with wonder and enchantment with her mysterious tone. Finn gasped, not quite daring to ask what that was.

Joshua yawned, climbing into the wagon Finn had just vacated and pulling his hat over his eyes. "Welp, I'll be here if you need me," he grunted as he tried to get comfortable.

"You're not staying here, are you?" Margaret sighed, shaking her head at her husband.

"Yep, gonna soak up some rays and get some rest," Joshua confirmed.

"Never mind him, Finn," the lady grumbled. "We'll just go on without him. He's half lizard if he wants to stay out in this heat. Half lizard on his mother's side, if memory serves."

Joshua raised a fist in their direction without moving anything else. "My mother was a saint!" he grumbled loudly from under his fedora.

"No, she was a god," Margaret retorted crisply. "Godzilla, matter of fact. Come now Finn, there's lots to see!"

Behind them, Joshua made a rude noise but made no move to get up.

Finn raced after the lady, darting here and there as they made their way across the expansive, dark land that surrounded the strange building. "What's a mall? Do bears live there? Are any of these big bugs still around? Can I ride one? Huh? Can I?

Margaret slowed her pace a little, and caught the youngster by the hand as he charged up to her. "The mall is a mysterious place, Little Bit. It's a holdover from a time before our recorded history. Ancient creatures make their home here, such as the Little People."

The human boy's eyes widened. "What are the Little People? Why do they live here?"

The lady smiled, happy to indulge the little one in his game of questions. "The Little People are an ancient race. They value knowledge above all other things, and they are well-versed in magic. They have strongholds all over Ooo, such as this place. Bands of their number travel the very world, collecting knowledge and bringing it to their brethren. But, they are very shy, and very secretive. If someone who doesn't know the secret for contacting them comes near, they will find only ruins and danger in a place like this."

Margeret paused, taking both of the child's hands and looking him directly in the eyes. "That being said, I want you to promise me that you'll never play in a place like this. You feel it, don't you? That feeling of slight foreboding? Of being watched from all directions, even from the sky and underground?" When the boy nodded hesitantly she continued. "That's the effect of their magic, warning you to stay away. If you find yourself in a place that feels like this, you need to leave. Even if, for some reason, you want to try and contact them, you must not proceed unless that feeling goes away completely."

Finn gazed up at his foster mother curiously. "Then, how come you're going in?"

Margaret smiled once more, releasing his hands and approaching the daunting edifice. "Because I don't have that feeling. I've been visiting the Little People since I was just a pup, and they've always welcomed me. Joshua's never bothered to try and progress past the sidewalk, so I don't know what they think of him. You're with me, so you are here as my guest. Be on your best behavior, and maybe you'll be allowed to meet them." she speculated as she pushed open a ventilation grille for him to enter.

Finn looked from the ominous opening to the lady's smiling face, and took a deep breath. With a soft whisper of "Adventure time!" he forged ahead into the dark, musty unknown.


	10. Four Years, part two

AN: I'm back! Sorry for the delay, let's get right to it!

* * *

Finn cautiously prodded the darkness in front of him as he advanced through the ductwork. It was cold, and the light had long ago left him. Only the sound of Margaret's humming, a cheery beacon that was more reassuring than any flashlight would be, kept him moving through the darkness. The lady seemed completely unconcerned about their surroundings, moving ahead of the boy with a steady pace and occasionally calling back to him when she made a turn in their echoing tunnel.

The boy was startled when he actually bumped into something warm and furry, and was relieved when a soft laugh informed him that it was the lady herself. "Are you ready, Finn? Remember what I said about being on your best behavior."

Finn nodded energetically, then realized that the lady wouldn't be able to see the motion. "Yes, Ma'am!" he whispered fiercely, determined to make good on the promise.

There was a screeching sound as Margaret pushed open what Finn took to be an ancient metal door. All the resolve the boy had gathered evaporated as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The huge room beyond the doorway was a gleaming wonderland of strange objects. Piles of boxes, some of which gleamed with treasure, statues, thick books... a heap of shiny metal swords and knives beckoned the child with its' deadly pointiness.

"Awesome!" Finn cried, pushing his way past Margaret to stare in amazement at the collection of assorted objects. A water source drizzled a thin current over blue-green tiles imprinted with flower patterns, lit from above by the thin, sickly light that penetrated the glass ceiling. The boy darted a few steps forward, backtracking to the left and then to the right as he tried to decide which wonders to examine first.

Margaret paced quietly past the dazzled young boy, catching his attention as she crossed the cracked tile floor and picked up a discarded paper cup from the ground. Moving next to the trickling water fountain, she held it under the weakly flowing water for a few moments before turning to slowly pour the cool liquid into the cracked container of a large flowering shrub.

Finn stared up at the lady expectantly. "What did you do that for?" he asked breathlessly, expecting some ceremonious answer.

Margaret smiled. "It looked a little parched." At the boys disappointed expression, she chuckled. "Not everything in life has some grand meaning, dear. Even in a place like this, mundane things happen."

Straightening her hat and dusting off her hands, she turned her attention to the shadows that lurked beyond the piles of treasure and offal. "Hello!" she called cheerfully. "Do come out and meet Finn, he's very excited about meeting you."

Finn glanced about as the sound of faint whispers reached him. He couldn't see anyone, but the feeling of being watched washed over him. He rubbed his hands over his arms at the sensation, which was becoming overwhelming. Unseen eyes peered at him from the darkness, and the hushed voices seemed to come from everywhere at once.

"Margarine's brought us a human!" A distinct voice suddenly cried, making Finn jump a little. The other voices hissed "A human? A human?" back and forth in the darkness as Finn retreated to Margaret's side. Not that he was scared or anything, he reassured himself, it was just good manners to let her introduce him.

The lady smiled and nodded, holding a hand out to the unseen multitudes. "That's right, wouldn't you like to meet him?" She turned to Finn and winked reassuringly. "They're quite shy, you know. Don't let them scare you."

Finn nodded hesitantly, even as he grabbed Margaret's hand. When he chanced a look back towards the pile of knick-knacks that he had backed into, an ornamental pitcher blinked at him.

Margaret clutched her hands over her ears as Finn loosed a high-pitched shriek of terror. "Little Bit, calm down! It's okay!"

Finn hyperventilated as the eyes made a motion like blinking and slid slowly, sickeningly down the side of the vessel and onto what the boy initially took to be a small statue. The little action figure stood up, trotting unsteadily over to the dog and the human on broken limbs and looking up at them with something approaching awe.

"Marigold, this is fascinating. A great find!" The small figure cried, waving its tiny arms for emphasis.

Finn clung to Margaret's side, eyes wide. From the shadows beyond the dim half-light of the central chamber, the voices began to whisper again.

"I thought you'd enjoy meeting Finn," Margaret agreed, doing a remarkable job of sounding unconcerned about how Finn was attempting to hide behind her. "He's rather unique, and I know how excited you get about unique things, Nail."

Finn kicked fretfully at the little plastic figure as it circled unsteadily around them both. The expressive eyes, which dominated its tiny face, didn't blink so much as they became smaller and larger intermittently. There was no visible mouth moving as the strange creature spoke, instead, the voice seemed to come out of the air right over it.

"It's alright, Finn," Margaret soothed as she attempted to extricate herself from the child's desperate grip. "Nail is a researcher. A young one, I've been told, but very good."

"Nailgun, at your service," the voice that didn't quite come from the still-mobile action figure chirped. The broken toy made a clumsy attempt at a bow. "I'm this colony's most experienced researcher on humans, but until now I've never met one myself."

"Y-You know about humans?" Finn echoed, allowing the alien creature to come closer.

"We know about a lot of things. Wonderful things, terrible things, things that would drive you completely insane if you only heard their proper names..." Nail trailed off with a sort of laugh as he examined Finn's shoes. "Knowledge is wonderful. It feeds the brain and tells it how to grow, and how to live, and how to devour."

Finn watched, unsettled, as the eyes slid down off of the broken toy, which fell to the ground, and across the floor beneath them. The motion was elastic and lazy, like two pieces of ice drifting across a slow-moving body of water.

"What? What ARE you?" the boy finally blurted out, earning a soft chuckle from Margaret, who'd shuffled over to turn her attention on the wilting flowers spilling out of a broken planter next to the ancient fountain.

"What are we?" Nailgun seemed stunned by the question. "We are what we are, of course. We are not what we were, nor what we will be, or even what we could have been. We are the collectors, the archivists, the keepers and the eaters. We are older than this world and older than the one that came before." Nail's voice took on a slightly sing-song quality as he continued, allowing his eyes to travel upwards onto a thick-stalked green plant that Margaret had been tending to. Finn followed slowly, as if hypnotized by the movement.

"We have been known by many names, Mercury here likes to call us the Little People."

Margaret scoffed. "And you like to call me anything but my own name in response."

The eyes settled above a rough-edged old wound in the plant's stalk in a way that made the mark appear like a snaggle-toothed voracious grin. Finn gulped, trying not to picture the plant springing forward to devour him.

"I saved Nail's life when I was just a pup," Margaret expounded, waving dismissively at the mostly-unseen creature. "It was quite accidental, but he seemed something resembling grateful."

"We can't comprehend your emotional labels, Magpie. You know that." Nail retorted, twisting his eyes around sideways on the plant. Finn, mimicking the motion by leaning his head (and most of his body) sideways, wobbled and fell over. The chorus of voices in the shadows beyond started up again, whispering and muttering to each other.

Margaret smiled as she helped the human boy up. "They're very cautious, even though they don't recognize it as such. I'm afraid that they've gotten so old that they don't really understand feelings anymore."

Nail slid down a broad leaf sideways, letting his eyes fall one after the other to the broken tile ground below. "Emotions are bothersome," he put in, eye dilating in the otherworldly approximation of a blink that he used. "Our ancestors determined that they were detrimental to understanding most of the things we were most interested in thoroughly, so we have done our best to do away with them as we do away with all that doesn't serve our needs."

Finn poked cautiously at the ground next to one staring eye-shape that rested flush with the ground next to his foot. "Where's the rest of you?" he asked, still unnerved by the disembodied creature.

"The rest of me? It is mostly just thought and knowledge and such," Nail replied, sounding almost bored. "What you see is not really what is, it is simply the best your mind can interpret it."

"So, you're not just a flat pair of eyes?" Finn asked, leaning over the faceless eyes. "Oh no," denied the voice. "There is more. But what of you? What has become of your kind?"

The boy frowned, sitting down next to the eyes. "I don't know, I was found, that's all I know." The boy looked over at Margaret for a moment, then back to his host. "Have you seen more humans? When did they go away?"

Margaret held her breath for a moment at that, and hoped that the answer wouldn't be too awful for the boy to hear.

"Humans? They scattered to the winds long ago," a new voice called from behind the pile of glittering coins spilling out of an old jewelry store.

"Yes! They hid themselves away, we saw!" another voice replied, barely a whisper above the quiet murmuring that filled the air.

"They changed," another cried. "Yes! They died," still another keened from somewhere unseen.

"Aye! They took their great ships and set sail for lands we do not know, beyond the sun and beyond the west."

"Truth! Their way of life is death! They live to die and die again to live on anew!"

Finn turned this way and that as he tried to follow the myriad disjointed phrases being tossed about the cavernous space. There seemed to be no consensus about the fate of his kind to him, but the many different voices that called back and forth all seemed to be agreeing, even as their answers contradicted each other.

"It is true. They have done all this and more. However, they are not all gone," Nail finally interrupted, gaining the boy's attention. "Our journey is incomplete, we do not know all that there is to know. It may be that you are the last human born. If you are, then you must make your mark as the greatest your kind has produced."

The boy stood, wavering uncertainly on his feet. "Why?" he finally squeaked out.

"Because if you are the greatest, then your kind has done well to produce you," Nail replied, his eyes sliding back towards the shadows. "There is nothing so distasteful as a complete waste of time, and to be the last and not the best would be to show nothing for efforts of all the generations that went before you."

The eyes had vanished back into the shadows, but Finn and Margaret could still hear the Little People's whispers.

"The last," they echoed, "the greatest."

"Why Nail, that sounds suspicously like pride," Margaret teased, patting the human boy on the shoulder.

"Not pride Match-maker, just logic," the voice called back. "The sum must be greater than all that was put into producing it."

"It is math," another voice sighed. "It is logic," yet another agreed.

Margaret put an arm around Finn and began to guide him back towards the duct they'd entered by. "We'd best be going. It's getting late. Goodbye, everyone! And thank you for your hospitality!"

Finn paused at the grate, risking one last look back into the forgotten realm of treasure and mystery that both excited him and made his skin crawl. "Math," he repeated to himself. "The future adds up to math!"


	11. Four Years, Three Months

A/N: Thank you to the person (you know who you are!) who reminded me I haven't updated this story in TWO YEARS! I honestly hadn't thought it was that long! Um... so... y'know.. hi again! Several things have been established in canon that contradict my tale in places, but I'm going to continue trying to make things work the best I can. Jermaine's personality hasn't really been established yet, but hopefully I don't get him completely wrong.

Well, this is a short one to get back into the swing of things. Let's check in with Jake, shall we?

* * *

Jake whistled a jaunty tune to himself as he strode with greatly elongated limbs over the stony landscape. If he didn't think about being alone, he couldn't feel bad about it, he reasoned. And if he didn't feel bad about it, there was no reason to think about it.

Perfectly logical.

But it wasn't working. He was still thinking about it. He hadn't stopped thinking about it since he'd left home. Since departing the family dwelling on the grand quest to "find himself" and become an adult, Jake had done very little other than wander around and feel sorry for himself.

The magical dog had traveled far, but in a meandering sort of way, in the past six months since he left. After tiring of his own solitude, he'd decided the logical step would be seeking out his brother Jermaine. The other dog had begun his own march into proper adulthood early, upon their parents' firm insistence.

Jake had never owned up to his part in the event that had brought the premature departure about, and resolved that he never would. The only time he'd ever seen his mother so angry was during the aftermath of the ill-fated "farewell adventure" he'd taken Finn on just two short weeks before leaving home.

He still had nightmares about both of those events.

As he stepped over a rough ravine, he wondered idly if Finn did, too. He probably did, poor kid. A slight stab of guilt reminded him that he'd never told his parents about the nightmares the boy suffered. Well, they were probably aware of them by now, he realized.

Jake found himself reflecting once again how much more fun this expedition would be if he had the young boy with him. Besides his joyous enthusiasm for life and new experiences, the boy was a babe magnet. Many times in his explorations Jake would hear people discussing the rumor that someone had found a human child. The revelation was always greeting by gasps of shock and denial. The canine had discovered that striding confidently over to the party and proclaiming that 'yes, it was true- he knew because it was his family that had done it' was no way to win friends, nor girls.

The typical response to his announcement was amusement and a flat refusal to believe that he was telling the truth. Even when he produced a photo of Finn and Margaret from his pack as evidence, he was dismissed. Finn's typical hat concealed the features that best marked him as something other than a weird goblin, freak mutant, or other similar humanoid. Jake's stories of how, no really, the boy had small ears, no gills, and a mane of thick blonde hair were laughed at. The young dog found himself missing being back home, where he was regularly approached by girls at the store who'd heard of the human.

"Is it really true?" they'd ask, bashfully looking up at him. Jake would drop his eyelids to half-mast, lean in confidentially and assure them that yes, there really was still such a thing as a human, and sure he could let them see a picture. The girls back home were always terribly impressed just seeing an image of such an exotic creature.

Of course, the number of locals who'd met Finn had leant the canine's story (however true) much credibility. Jake had never really appreciated how much of the "charm" that he'd always believed he wielded so effortlessly was the result of collaboration.

The only one out here who had believed him when he talked about the young human was his brother, Jermaine.

Jermaine had been delighted to see him at first. His brother had eagerly devoured all news from back home, exclaiming and laughing over the antics Jake and their young human friend had gotten up to in his absence. They speculated about the cave, shuddered over the memories of parental fury, and pondered the origins of their parents unusual young house guest. They had hung out like they used to when they were just pups for a while, getting to know each other all over again.

For a while, at least, it was fun.

Jermaine had tolerated him for a period of two weeks before advising him that his journey of self-discovery needed to start taking steps away from Jermaine's living room couch and non-stop worship of the Party God.

The rejection, which was what Jake had seen it as, had hurt. In Jake's mind, the two brothers ought to be living it up as madcap roomies, sleeping all day and dancing with babes all night. Wasn't that how they'd always planned on spending their adulthoods as pups? No parents, no rules, no reason to quit having fun until they passed out from fun-overdose?

Jermaine had obviously seen things differently. His objections when Jake proclaimed he planned on staying for the foreseeable future had been like a roll of paper swatting across Jake's nose. There was no getting around it. Jermaine had changed. And so the dog had returned to aimless wandering, allowing his direction to be chosen by whatever caught his eye, or sometimes his nose.

Sometimes he'd imagine that his young human friend was walking alongside him, pointing out scenery and exclaiming over what they should do next. The imaginings were so realistic at times that he fooled himself into almost believing them. It made him lonesome all over again to remember that the boy wasn't with him. Finn was back home, with Jake and Jermaine's parents, waiting for his own mom and dad to appear and reclaim him. Maybe they'd come for him already? Maybe they'd come the day after Jake left?

The magical dog disliked the thought that the boy might not still be at the family home. Jermaine had even suggested it was probably for the best if Finn had been reclaimed. Jake had trouble seeing that statement as anything other than an attack on him and his judgement in taking the child out spelunking.

"Pfah," Jake grumbled to himself. "Jermaine.. he's probably still mad about the thing with the sink. Wasn't my fault." After a moment of self-righteous scowling, he let his shoulders droop. "Not all my fault, anyway." The canine straightened the load of his traveling pack as he shrank his limbs back to a normal size. In the dim evening light, he could see what looked like a town up ahead.

One thing Jake had discovered while on the road was that he appreciated a certain level of civilization. Sure, sleeping under the stars sounding amazing and smacked of freedom and a limitless horizon, but being hit with blood-colored hailstones one night while camping near the edge of the Badlands had disenchanted him of doing it when he didn't need to.

Maybe Jermaine was right? Maybe he should be thinking seriously about finding a place to live. Setting down some roots, building something for himself instead of just drifting from place to place. The sun slid farther down the horizon, casting a warm pastel glow over the silhouetted city that was rising steadily in front of him. Thanking his lucky stars that he could sleep in a real bed this night, Jake began to jog towards the gate.

The city was unlike anything Jake had seen so far in his travels. A cloying smell, like frosting in a garbage can, wafted through the air as he trotted down the street. It was as though he'd wandered into a dumpster behind a bakery. Spotting a local, Jake called out a greeting.

"Yo! Hey buddy," he hailed the short, round figure ahead.

The squat individual turned slowly, almost suspiciously to face him, pulling a hat down lower over its eyes. "Waddaya want?" the round man grumbled, subjecting the dog to a distrustful glare from the shadows over his face.

"You know where I guy can get a bite to eat and a warm bed? I've been traveling all day!" Jake pleaded, silently wondering why he was getting strange looks from the short, pale figure.

"Why ya askin' me?" the small man snapped. "You a cop? Ya lookin' fer someone ta narc on? Ya need me ta get some guys and teach you a lesson about mindin' yer own business?" The small figure made a motion like he was rolling up his sleeves as he stalked towards the startled dog.

Jake backed a step away from the man, baffled and defensive. "I'm not a cop, and I'm not into anyone's business but my own! What's your deal, man? Why can't you just be cool?"

At the dog's outburst, the short man gave Jake a long look of close scrutiny. "Cool? Heh. Yeah... Yeah I get ya. Yer jus' lookin fer a place to set up housekeepin' fer a while, huh?" The stubby figure hooked a thumb back over his shoulder, nodding for the dog to follow him into a nearby building. "I think maybe I can help ya out, pal. Maybe ya wanna stay awhile, do some odd jobs fer some traveling cash? My boss is always lookin' fer some part-timers."

Jake sighed with relief as he trailed his new acquaintance into the dilapidated hotel. Finally, he was making progress on getting his own place and becoming his own dog. "Yeah, I'll talk to him. But I set my own hours. None of that getting up at the crack of dawn stuff, you know?" In the light of the run down hotel lobby, he could finally get a good look at his escort.

"We ain't inta that, neither." the bright green, spherical man assured him. "The name's Bid. Welcome ta the Candy Kingdom, pal."


	12. Four Years, Five Months Part 1

A/N: Well look who's updating! Let's take a peek at how the family is doing while we wait for Jake's inevitable doom in the Candy Kingdom, shall we?

* * *

Joshua adjusted his favorite grey fedora before reaching for the doorknob. He must be slowing down in his old age, sleeping in so late. The bulldog stifled a yawn as he pulled the front door open. If he started airing out his lungs before he even got out of the house, his wife would start in nagging about his habitual late-night reading again. Right now, he needed to concentrate on fixing the shutters. They weren't going to fix themselves, after all.

The late morning air had just a touch of coolness to it, a whispered promise of the coming season's change. There were tales that the seasonal transitions had once been starker, more pronounced and reliable before the Great Mushroom War. The ancient books that Joshua had looted from the scattered libraries and borrowed from the hidden dungeons of Ooo attested to it as fact.

These books, some of which he believed to have been written by Finn's kind, were mysterious indeed. He had wondered many times if the humans were an opposite-leaning people, as the books marked "Fiction" contained reference to the magics and mundane that permeated Ooo. The books labeled "Non-Fiction" made no mention of these, but often spoke of such ridiculous notions as the normalcy of rocket-powered travel between the planets.

Either humans were a deeply confused lot, or something drastically world-shattering had happened during the Great Mushroom War. He shuddered to think which might be more accurate.

Just as he started to step out onto the front porch, and flicker of movement below caught his eye. A small yellow snail with a brown shell waved up at him, cheerfully smiling despite the fact that he'd nearly been stepped on.

"Oh! Pardon!" Joshua murmured, stepping back within the threshold of the family home. "I'm afraid I almost didn't see you there."

The snail nodded, bearing no ill will over the incident. Before the dog's eyes, the snail reached into its' mouth and with a faint cough, drew out a small white object. With a snap of the invertebrate's wrist, the tiny piece of paper enlarged to reveal a picture postcard, only slightly damp from its' journey.

Joshua took the postcard, shaking the snail's tiny hand before shutting the front door on the waving creature. "Margaret! Finn! We've got a postcard from Jake!"

Finn dropped from the ceiling right behind the startled dog, whimpering a little at his rough landing. "Haven't I told you to stay off the chandelier?" Joshua sighed, returning his fedora to the hat rack by the door. "I could have sworn that I did once? Maybe..." the canine trailed off, suddenly unsure if he ever had actually told the small boy to stay off the ceiling fixtures. "Well the point is don't do it," he interrupted himself, shaking a very stern finger at the boy.

"Did you say we got a letter from Jake?" Margaret asked, appearing in a much more normal fashion from behind the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. She wiped her flour and sugar-covered hands on her apron as she left the cookies she'd just finished cooling on the baking rack.

"Postcard," Joshua corrected her, picking the human boy up and walking over to the lumpy sofa with him. "I don't know why he sent it snail mail, it's so inconvenient and takes too long!"

Margaret took Finn into her arms, giving him a quick once-over for injuries as she tuned out her husband's complaints. "At least he wrote, it was very considerate of him to do so. I don't know when the last time was that we heard from Jermaine.."

Finn, newly certified as fracture-free, reached a grabby hand towards the colorful postcard. "What's it say?" he demanded, drawing the adults' attentions back to the fact that there was an actual message on the piece of mail.

Margaret settled on the sofa, arms around Finn to keep him from investigating the object before it could be read. Joshua smiled indulgently at the four-year old leaning attentively towards him and began to recite the inscription.

"Ahem," he began with great authority, "It says Dear Mom and Dad, just a note to let you know I am fine. I'm living it up in the candy kingdom right now. It's really great. I've already made some new friends, and they're hooking me up with full-time work with on the job training. I hear there's a lot of room for advancement, just limited to your own ambition. I'm looking forward to an early start right after second breakfast."

Joshua paused in his reading to snort at his son's notion of being a go-getter. Margaret chuckled softly into Finn's hat at the other dog's expression.

"P.S., how is Finn? Tell him that he's-" Joshua's expression faltered, and he found himself frowning at the message.

"Finn's what?!" the boy demanded, put out that the one mention of him in the entire message was cut short. "Finn's what?!"

"Uh.." Joshua blinked at the boy before hastily concluding "Uh, Finn's... Finn's really... pushy... when he wants to be."

Finn's small face screwed up in annoyance. "That's it? Ripoff." So saying, the boy pulled himself free of his foster mother's embrace and stomped off into the kitchen.

After the boy had gone, Joshua handed the postcard off to his wife. The lady accepted the message, skimming down the words until she saw Finn's name. "Tell Finn that he's famous out here," she read in a hushed whisper. "Everywhere I go, people are talking about the mysterious human."

The duo sat a moment in silence, digesting the message. "I suppose it was just a matter of time before the word got out," Margaret mused, collapsing back into the cushioned seat with a sigh. "I wonder if this is a... well, perhaps it is a good thing." The lady turned the postcard over, staring dully at the image of a young bubblegum pink princess that some prankster had bedecked with a mustache. "If his.. if his parents are out there, maybe they'll finally track him down."

Joshua pressed a hand to his forehead as though fighting off a severe headache. "What if it brings some other kind of attention?" he growled tersely. "Human poachers, or something? Rainicorns? There are all kinds of creatures I can't say that I want informed of where they can find a human boy."

"Joshua," Margaret's voice was scarcely a whisper. "We can't just lock him up. Certainly not now."

Her husband sighed. "I know darling... I know. But we've got to keep him safe. I mean he's our.." the male paused for a moment. "He's our guest."

"Yes", Margaret agreed unhappily. "Our... guest."

From his place just on the other side of the swinging doors, Finn frowned down at the sugar cookie clutched in his hand. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but now there was no unhearing the conversation between his foster parents. The boy retraced his steps into the kitchen and returned the dessert to the space on the cooling rack. Suddenly, it wasn't as tempting as he'd first thought.

* * *

"So Jake," the short, round form of Bid called out, shoving his way through the crowd at the dark bar, "Ya think ya ready to take the test yet? Become a full-timer an' all dat?"

The dog in the corner booth smirked. "Yeah, I'm ready. I mean, it's not like it's that complicated. Grab what you can, when you can. Don't get caught. Everything's free to those with the talent to take what they want." The dog yawned as he recited the gang's motto, stretching his arms over his head and touching the ceiling with his pinkie fingers.

"I mean, I can see how it could be hard for some of you guys with no powers, but I am the pro. I'm the pro's pro. The pro-pro." The sourball laughed appreciatively as he settled into the seat opposite the confident rookie. "Jus' get yer final score before ya order da business cards, ya mook."

Jake scowled, "I'm a bit put off by your lack of confidence in me," he complained, sniffing delicately. "I mean, who saved the other first-timers from the banana guards? Me. Who disguised himself as a bike rack and nabbed a whole dozen bicycles at one time? Me. Who escaped a dead end alley by squeezing himself through a crack in the wall no bigger than a carpenter ant's big toe, and still got that old lady's purse? That's right, ME!"

Full of righteous indignation, Jake slammed his palms down on the table top and leaned over into Bid's personal comfort bubble. "Face it, I'm as good as fully rated. The only thing left is just formalities."

The small sourball gaped a bit at the newcomer's audacity. "Keep it down, Jake. Listen man, Don Juan Cherry Tempo don't like it when us underling's get all fulla ourselves."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Don Juan Cherry Tempo can eat a lollipop. I could run this place WAY better than he does. In fact.."

Bid swallowed nervously at the diabolical grin that suddenly graced his canine friend's features. "I could BE Don Juan Cherry Tempo! You know what, I AM Don Juan Cherry Tempo!" So saying, the dog took a deep breath, expanding his body until he had taken on the approximate size and shape of the Marischino Family crime lord. Bid scrambled for safety as the table that had separated them came surging in his direction, propelled by Jake's abrupt transformation.

"Listen up, you little gumdrops!" Jake bellowed, setting the bar's inhabitants into a panicked scramble. "Alla you quit loafing around here and get out there to make me some money! Move it!" Bid gripped the back of the booth seat that he had previously abandoned, willing himself to ignore the fact that Jake did a very good impression of the boss. If he hadn't seen the dog transform, even he would be darting out the door to placate the imposter.

Jake laughed as the bartender, apparently also on the Don's payroll, scurried out the door with the rest of the underlings. "See that?" he demanded, pointing at the doorway. "I could run this place with an iron fist, right under the Don's nonexistent nose! I could-!"

"Excuse me?"

Jake grumbled at the interruption, turning his attention back to the previously abandoned bar door. "Whaddaya want?" he growled, "In case you can't tell, I'm busy!"

"Yes sir," the small figure acknowledged, giving a slight bow to communicate his apology for the inconvenience his visit was causing. "I won't take but a moment of your time. Are you Don Juan Cherry Tempo? Head of the Marischino Family?"

Jake, still in his massive transformed state, strolled importantly over to the lone diminutive figure framed by the door. "Why yes," the dog grinned. "Yes I am."

"Very good sir."

Jake gaped as the small candy person slapped a set of handcuffs on him. To his horror, he found that he could not transform again to shake them off. "Hey! H-Hey, what's the big idea?" the dog complained, struggling with the magical restraints.

"My apologies," the striped candy man replied. "We have not been formally introduced, how thoughtless of me. I am called Peppermint Butler. In the name of her highness the Princess, I am here to arrest you and break up your organized crime ring. We cannot have this sort of foolishness plaguing the good citizens of Candy Kingdom. Her highness just won't stand for it."

"Princess?!" Jake squawked, "Arrest?! No, wait, you've got the wrong guy! Uh, the wrong dog! C-Candy person..?"

The peppermint dressed like a butler frowned. "I'd really recommend that you not resist arrest. Her highness is most interested in having you alive for your trial."

Bid pressed himself flat against the upended booth as Jake was led away. "Dis ain't no good," he muttered, preparing to make a break for the back exit as soon as the coast was clear.


	13. Four Years, Five Months Part 2

A/N: Oh hey... So it's this story again! I guess I owe a serious explanation. When I started this tale, I wanted to keep it as close to the show as possible. Then of course, we started having eps that contradicted what I had planned and well.. I sort of got disenchanted with resolving the conflicts. BUT! I've decided to call it AU and keep pressing onward. Hopefully even if the chapters get a little short here and there, we'll get through this thing! So, back to it!

* * *

Jake moaned unhappily to himself as the small form of Peppermint Butler led him out of the back alleys of the Candy Kingdom and into the bustling streets of the main city. This was no good, he reflected as he tried once more to transform back to his rightful shape. The magical restraints emitted a soft glow as they denied his attempts at shape-shifting.

"Look, butler guy," he adopted a more placating tone than he'd previously tried on the candy man. "We obviously got off on the wrong foot. This is all a big misunderstanding! I'm not Don Juan Cherry Tempo, I'm Jake the dog! I'm magic and can stretch into stuff! I was just playing a prank on those other bums who work for the guy. Let me outta these things, and I'll show you." Jake let his voice slide over into a plaintive whine, a trick that had always worked well in the past when he'd gotten into trouble with authority figures.

Peppermint Butler scoffed slightly under his breath, unimpressed with the whimper. "I'm afraid you'll need to take that up with her Highness. For all I know, you _could be_ a magic dog. And for that matter, Don Juan Cherry Tempo _could be_ an alias name and form used by a shapeshifter to direct the Marichino crime ring. It would certainly make sense as to why we've had so much trouble capturing him."

Jake gaped, seeing the logic in the statement. "Oh man.. Look, I don't want any trouble, man. I admit that I did do some work for the guy.. I'll tell you everything! Just... C'mon, I'm too handsome to go to jail! My good looks will fade like a flower cruelly taken out of the sun! I'll wither away to dust! I'll-"

The diminuitive candy person stopped walking, turning to peer intently up at the enlarged Jake. For a bright, shining moment, Jake allowed himself to believe that his heartfelt pleas had gotten through to his captor.

The next moment, he whined in resignation as an enormous jawbreaker was shoved in his mouth as a makeshift gag. Now free of auditory complaints, Peppermint Butler pulled his captive onwards towards the palace.

The palace banana guard ooohed and ahhhed over the apparent capture of the Candy Kingdom's most wanted criminal, and eagerly ushered the duo into the castle throne room. To Jake's surprise, there was no one on the sugar-coated seat of power, however.

"Oh my, her Highness must be working on one of her little projects again," Peppermint Butler sighed softly. "Well, come along, Jake Juan Cherry-dog, or whoever you are. We shall have to go to her, no force on Ooo is sufficient to distract the princess when she is on the track of some discovery."

Jake tried to memorize the turns that he was guided through as he was led deeper into the castle. There was a chance that this candy princess might believe him, but there was also the very real possibility that he would be forced to try and fight his way free. At last, the butler stopped before a heavy door with a sign on it reading "Caution: Science at Work".

The door was pushed open for them by a pair of the banana guards who had escorted them through the castle, and for a moment Jake was blinded by the glare from intense lighting bouncing off of the many instruments and test tubes within.

"Very good!" a female voice cheered, "That reaction was perfectly in line with our expectations! Oh, I must make a note of this in my journal!"

A willowy girl in a lab coat and crown grabbed up a clipboard and began taking notes, pausing every so often to coo appreciatively at the small candycorn rat that preened its' whiskers on the countertop. "Oh this is truly excellent! I can't imagine how I'd ever get so much done without you, Science the fourth!"

"Your Highness," Peppermint Butler called hesitantly. "If I might have but a moment of your time?"

The girl shook her head, sweeping some of her long, suspiciously gooey-looking hair away from her face. "Not now, please! Science and I are quite busy at the moment."

"B-But Princess!" the small candy man looked positively annoyed at the dismissal. "I have captured Don Juan Cherry Tempo!" He cast an evaluating look at Jake. "Or someone like him, at least."

The princess nodded, continuing to take notes on the concoction bubbling over the bunson burner in front of her. "Very good, I'll have my lunch just a little later though."

The small candy man emitted a long-suffering sigh. "Very well, Princess Bubblegum. I will bring down a light lunch in half an hour. If I could just have your attention for one-"

Jake, who had previously been staring in boredom at the nonsensical interactions of the princess and her faithful servant, suddenly felt his nose twitch. 'Oh no', he thought, 'Can't scratch it..."

"..And I'm sure that your Highness would find it worthwhile," Peppermint Butler continued, ignorant of Jake's predicament.

The dog's nose twitched again, and Jake focused all his willpower on ignoring the persistant itch. 'Can't... fight it!' he thought plaintively, 'I'm gonna...!"

"...Would certainly appreciate your insights on his claim." the small round candy man concluded, gesturing up at Jake just in time for the magically-altered dog to let loose the mother of all explosive sneezes.

"ACHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Princess Bubblegum yelped and dove beneath her lab table as the monstrous flying jawbreaker and a sudden gust of wind blew over her beakers and test tubes. Science the rat number four squeaked in terror as she leaped for the safety of the lead-lined observation nook. Peppermint Butler stared in shock as a massive fireball burst into brief existance as the mysterious chemicals spilled over the burner.

"Oh dear," he murmured.

There was a muted "bang", then all was silent.

"Good... gracious me..." Peppermint Butler, now covered in an unhealthy coating of soot, muttered as he passed out. As his hand slipped away from the chain holding Jake's restraints, the blackened magical chains collapsed into nothingness, allowing Jake to snap back into his proper form. The dog gave a miserable sniffle as he wiped at his nose.

"Uuhhhghhhh... 'Scuse me," he murmured.

The startling pink face of Princess Bubblegum reappeared after a moment, blinking at him in surprise from behind her singed makeshift shelter. "What...? Who...? Do you have any idea what you just did!?" she cried, wringing her small hands.

"Cleared the ol' sinuses?" Jake ventured, hoping he could defuse the situation with humor.

"You just destroyed all my zanoits! I had two weeks of research on that table! And now it's gone!" The girl waved her arms frantically at the crisped table, earning a chagrined look from the dog.

"Oh... Well..." Jake toed the ground for a moment, hoping that the Candy Kingdom didn't have a death penalty for interrupting scientific progress. Considering how his day had been going, it really wouldn't be surprising. "Would... Would it help if I said I was really sorry? 'Cause I am really sorry if I broke your.."

"And I simply cannot thank you enough!" Princess Bubblegum cried, grabbing the dog up and whirling around with him. "Science and I have been working on a formula to break down a new form of zanoits for over a month! We tried everything we could think of, but they continued to adapt as fast as we introduced new toxins to them. And now, thanks to your help, we finally have the answer! They've adapted themselves right out of their previously inherent heat resistance! Oh this is fantastic! Thank you so much, puppy!" The princess began to scratch his ears, cooing "Who's a good boy?" softly.

Jake felt the grin pulling at his face before he was even aware that he just might be off the hook for the Cherry Tempo incident. "Well gosh, it was nothing, your Princess-ness!"

"Oh it was far from nothing, now we can keep the plantoids from over-adapting!"

Jake frowned. "I thought you were killing zanoits?"

"Yes, but plantoids emit deadly mallotoxins that kill zanoits. Some zanoits have been adapting stronger defenses, and in turn have been killing off hundreds of thousands of plantoids."

The dog felt his frown grow as the weak mental grasp he'd had on his situation fumbled and slipped away. "Are... are we killing things or saving things?"

"Yes! Exactly!" Princess Bubblegum beamed. "I'm so glad that you understand how important this research is now! Truly, it will be a tremendous boon to the Candy Kingdom! Is there anything I can do for you, puppy?"

Jake's grin returned, dialing itself up to eleven. "You could tell your butler I'm not Don Juan Cherry Tempo! I'm just a magic dog! The name's Jake!"

Princess Bubblegum's friendly demeanor melted away. "Don Juan... Wait a minute. If Peppermint Butler believes you are the head of the Marichino crime family, he must have a good reason. Why was he so convinced that he insisted on interrupting my work?"

The candy person in question blearily raised himself to his feet, dusting himself off even as he fought to retain his balance. "He took on the appearance of Cherry Tempo, Princess. And he claimed twice to be the Don. I was forced to take him into custody. He was quite rude about it, I must say."

The princess, now carrying Jake like a sack of potatoes, marched from the lab with a determined look in her eye. "There's one way I know for certain to tell if this is Cherry Tempo or not." Peppermint Butler trailed behind the princess, faithfully awaiting her commands.

"We have found a witness who has spent time in close quarters with the Don," the princess announced. "Guards, bring the witness to my throne room tomorrow. Jake the dog, you will be our closely supervised guest for this evening. We shall have this all sorted out tomorrow morning."

Sensing his precious freedom being whisked away, Jake began to squirm. "Come on, man! I mean Princess! I'm just your regular, run of the mill magic dog! I swipe the occasional bike or old lady's purse! I'm not a criminal!"

Princess Bubblegum dropped the pleading Jake into a large, empty pickle jar that her servant placed beside the candy throne. "Sounds like a criminal to me," she sighed to Peppermint Butler, who nodded as he straightened his jacket collar. "Indeed your highness."

The small candy figure of Peppermint Butler stepped forward to place a lid on the jar, leaving a few small holes poked in the lid to let in air. The candy man bowed to the princess as she departed, then traced a square around the prison. He then drew more sides, as if creating an invisible cube around the jar, all the while muttering to himself in a soft voice. At last, he seemed satisfied with his work and stepped back.

"You must remain here until her highness is prepared for your judgement in the morning," he announced.

Jake smirked. "You did catch that I'm a MAGIC dog, right? I can just squeeze right outta here!" So saying, Jake shrank and stretched his body, flowing out of the largest hole in the jar lid. A triumphant grin blazed across his face. "No prison can hold Jake the d-d-DANG IT!" he yelped, pulling back the foot that had only just attempted to touch the ground. The limb buzzed with numbness that seemed to travel sluggishly up his body. Frantic, he tried pushing his body in every direction he could think of. At every turn, he found himself zapped with the crackling detached feeling. It was as though his entire body was being jabbed with a nerve-tingling sleepy feeling.

Somewhat belatedly, he recalled the box that his observer had traced around his small prison. With an annoyed grunt, Jake poured his stinging form back into the pickle jar. "You win this round, Peppermint Butler," he grumbled. "But we'll see what's what in the morning!"

The small candy man smiled politely. "I look forward to it."

The duo sat and stared at each other for a long moment, before Jake finally spoke. "Hey... So... You're telling me filching bikes and purses is wrong?"

Somewhere back in a small house, nestled in the protective embrace of the forest, Joshua looked up from his dungeon-planning journal. He felt a cold chill shudder through his body, leaving him shaken and a little frightened by the sensation. "Dearest," he called hesitantly, "I just felt a disturbance... like one of your sons just admitted to an incredible lapse in judgement."

From beyond the swinging kitchen doors, Margaret's nonplussed voice called back. "That's quite alright dear, I'm sure that it must be your fault. Perhaps they'll forgive you some day."

Finn looked up from the floor, where Margaret had him tracing his letters in dry erase marker on the tile. "Grown ups are weird," he muttered to himself. With a shrug, he returned his attention to the picture postcard from Jake that laid on the floor beside him. Learning to read was going to be SO cool. Then he could find out all the super-secret stuff that the adults knew. The picture of the pink candy princess smiled up at him from behind the scribbled mustache that Jake or some other goof had drawn on her. Mustaches were cool, he decided, and haphazardly smeared one on his own lip with the marker.

There. He felt more grown up already!


End file.
